


Legend of Rock

by soft_princess, wesleysgirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_princess/pseuds/soft_princess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: Giles/Xander AU. What if Giles never came to Sunnydale?





	Legend of Rock

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Mireille for her support! Also thanks to KateKat1010 for the lovely banner she made as a cover for this work; unfortunately I have no idea how to attach it to this post as I don't have web space anymore.

 

When Xander was ten, he spent a week at Jesse's house in the summer. They spent most of their time in Jesse's pool, but on rainy days -- and there had been at least two of those that he could remember -- they went through all the albums that Jesse's father had. Old things from the 60s and the 70s, and they laughed like the children they were at the music, because when you're ten, old music is always funny. But there was one album they didn't make fun of. Or at least, Xander didn’t. Jesse liked to tease him about it.

It was from the late 70s, Ripper's Band's third, and last, album before all its members had gone their separate ways. Of course, Xander hadn’t known that at the time. He only found out at fifteen when he bought the Ripper's Band CD collection. When he'd been ten, and listening to it for the first time, it was the music itself that had Xander rocking in Jesse's living room. Now, at twenty-two, it was the singer's voice that kept him listening to all the songs he now knew by heart. That voice sent thrills through his body, and he could sit down on his bed and listen to it for hours.

The CDs he'd bought when he was fifteen, after scrunching up every little bit of money he could spare for months, had been lost in Sunnydale, along with everything else Xander had ever owned, but when Xander received his first, honest-to-goodness paycheck from the Council, the first thing he bought was the Ripper's Band CD collection, now with added live performances. He tried to argue with Willow that it wasn't obsession that pushed him to buy the CDs again as soon as he could. It just reminded him of Jesse and of possibly the best week he'd had ever. They'd been careless and young, and had the time of their lives.

Xander knew full well he was just making excuses. Just like he'd been making excuses all his life for many other things. He _was_ obsessed with Ripper's Band's music -- okay, to be completely honest, not exactly the music itself, but the singer, the sultry voice that often sent Xander to a mental -- and physical, if you wanted to get technical about it -- place that he'd rather not name, because that would call him up on other excuses he'd made in his life. He wasn't ready to go there yet. Not when Anya's death was still so fresh in his mind. No, he wasn't _in love_ with the singer, since you kinda had to know someone to be in love with them, but his body sure liked him a whole lot.

Which is why he kept beating himself over the head with a hammer for days after spending hours trying to remember who the hell 'Rupert Giles' was.

Andrew left a flyer on Xander's desk, one morning, and said: "I know you like this kind of music, so maybe you'll be interested in going--"

The implication was clear; Xander wasn't stupid enough not to realize that Andrew liked him, even _more_ than liked him, and was probably hinting that Xander should ask him on a date. Xander chose to ignore him. He looked at the pamphlet, and stared at the name for a long time.

It was for a Legends of Rock concert that was to happen in London three months from then. Three months, Andrew sure liked to wait a long time to go on a date. Not that Xander was going to ask him, because even he had boundaries he wasn't going to cross, and going out with Andrew was one of them. It didn’t matter that Xander actually kinda liked Andrew now, he was _not_ going to ask him on a date. And that was that. Still, that wasn't the point.

Legends of Rock. Some names he knew, most of them he didn't because they'd been around long before he was born. But one caught his eye. 'Rupert Giles.'

All day long, Xander waded through his paperwork -- he was leaving for Africa in just a few days and had to make sure everything was in order, or so Edwards had asked -- with the name hovering in his mind, like a song that's stuck in your head without you being able to remember the rest of the lyrics. Sure, Xander was interested in going to the concert. He should be back from Africa by then -- Edwards had said two months, at least as a starting point, to see if Xander liked it, and that's what Xander really liked about the man; Edwards always respected and valued your opinion, even when he was acting all self-righteous, which was, to be fair, a lot of the time -- and it would be a good opportunity for Xander to go out. He didn't see much of that happening in the foreseeable future. It was weird how alleviating Buffy of her burden had given her a chance to breathe, but made everyone else a lot more busy. All those little mini-slayers wouldn't train themselves, after all.

But Rupert Giles. Who the hell was Rupert Giles?

It only came to him after work, when he came back to his apartment and put some music on as he cooked.

Rupert Giles was Ripper's Band's singer.

Dinner was promptly forgotten on the stove. It only took a minute for Xander to find the pamphlet again, and ten minutes later he had not only purchased a ticket for the concert, but also a backstage pass that would allow him to meet all the participants of the concert. It cost him more money than he should have spent, but he didn’t care. Three months. Three months and he'd meet 'The Man' behind his obsession. Sure, he could wait that long.

The first week after he bought the tickets, he spent more than a little time thinking about the concert. But then there was traveling to Africa, which on its own would have been enough to make his very American head spin without adding the fact that he was actually expected to do, you know, _work,_ and that was more than enough to distract him. The eight weeks in Africa felt like a lifetime; he'd just started to settle in and start to feel comfortable there when his tour of duty was over and he was whisked back to England, which still didn't feel like going home.

He avoided Andrew when he could; puppies had less wistful eyes, and at least when they pawed your crotch you knew it was an accident. It wasn't until Dawn caught sight of the concert tickets sitting on his bureau that Xander realized that the undercurrent of excitement was still there, thrumming through his veins.

"Cool," Dawn said, in the voice that meant 'if you're old and like stuff like that.'

"It is." Xander was surprised at the level of defensiveness he felt; this was really important to him. "Hey, I don't give you a hard time about liking... whatever it is you like." So he didn't know.

Dawn rolled her eyes. She might be almost grown-up now, but the eye rolling thing lingered. "Uh-huh. Plus I wasn't giving you a hard time. All I said was 'cool.'"

He didn't want to argue. "Want to go get ice cream?" he asked.

Ah, ice cream. The universal distractor.

Xander kept himself well distracted for the next couple of weeks. The night of the concert finally arrived, though, and he stood with sweaty palms as the lights went out and the curtains drew back to reveal the first act. His collar felt too tight -- stupid, because the top two buttons were undone -- and his heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears even over the sound of the bass drum.

~ * ~ * ~

"Giles! you're next."

Rupert Giles looked at himself in the mirror one last time. The face that looked back at him was old. "There, old man, one last for the road," he whispered at himself, slicking his hair back. He loved to sing. He always had. In the first days of Ripper's Band, he had thought this was the great adventure of his life, but now, twenty-seven years later, he wondered if he hadn't missed something. Anything.

He had been on the verge of going back home, that night so many years ago when he'd been discovered. It was going to be his last appearance at the seedy bar he had been playing at for a few months. Everything with Ethan had gone wrong, and home -- and the Council -- seemed to be all that was left for Rupert. Oscar Henry had thought differently. The man had cornered Rupert after his performance and offered him the chance of a lifetime: a contract, a band of his own, and a record.

Rupert hadn’t thought of the Council then. He hadn’t thought of it since, to be perfectly honest, until he’d heard of its collapse, but even that had been shrugged away. It was another lifetime, another Rupert Giles.

So why was it on his mind tonight?

"Rupert."

He turned, smiling when he came face to face with Theo, his old band mate, the only one who had stuck around after the band had split.

"One last, yeah? Then we're off to greener pastures." Theo clapped Rupert on the back, grinning.

"We've already been to greener pastures," Rupert replied.

"I know, mate, but Diane wants me to retire completely from the business. Told her I would, after tonight. No more concerts, no more appearances anywhere. We're off to New Zealand with the kids day after tomorrow. Wants to visit her family, you see." Theo took a deep breath. "We'll probably settle there for a while. Get out of this crazy world."

Rupert didn't say anything to that. There wasn't anything to say at all, truly.

"You're invited, yeah? Whenever you like."

That made Rupert smile. Trust his friend to worry. "I'll be fine, Theo. You and Diane deserve some time to yourselves, and the kids certainly need quiet." There had been an incident, a couple of years before, where Theo's kids had ended up in a paparazzi nightmare, and Rupert knew that neither Diane nor Theo had completely recovered. It didn’t matter that Rupert would be truly alone once his friends had gone, he wouldn't begrudge them this. He hadn’t spoken to the other band members in over fifteen years, and his two serious relationships had left him with nothing but a sour taste in his mouth. He had promised himself since never to get involved again, most of all with a groupie. They were pleasing for one night, but soon became increasingly difficult to tolerate.

"All right." The stage manager grinned at them. "Rupert, Theo, you go. The guys are almost done with their number, now. The crowd’s hot tonight."

"Everything's hot," Rupert said ruefully, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. Bloody rooms behind the stage were always overheated, what with all the lights and equipment. Still, he found a smile, as always, as he and Theo stepped out onto the stage, and it was only a fake smile for less than a minute; after that, the power, the _high_ of being on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans, took over, and the grin he shot Theo was nothing but a hundred percent genuine.

It was hard to see out into the crowd beyond the first few rows, but Rupert always tried. The music took only half his attention, the lyrics flowing as easily as water despite the years since he'd last performed. Some things, he thought, truly became ingrained. As he sang, walking back and forth across the stage, he caught sight of a young man in the third row -- broad-shoulder but slender, wearing an eye patch, dark haired. Rupert tended toward the fair-haired, for the most part, regardless of gender, but something about this young man (surely it wasn't right to think of him as a boy, not when he was clearly in his twenties) kept Rupert's attention, and even as he continued to sing and make eye contact with others in the front rows, he found himself meeting the man's eyes again and again.

~ * ~ * ~

Xander's imagination was playing tricks on him. That was the only explanation. There was no way Rupert Giles was actually _looking_ at him. Just no way. The guy was even more charismatic on stage than he sounded on CD, which should have been obvious, but Xander, apparently, always had to have the obvious pointed out to him.

Xander couldn't take his gaze off Rupert.

He shifted on his feet, trying to ignore how all his blood seemed to have gone straight down. There was just so much denial his brain could take, though. He'd been oblivious to that too, for many, many years, how when he'd notice a hot guy it gave him the same reaction as noticing a really hot girl. And right now, Rupert Giles was the hottest man he'd ever seen. Maybe even hotter than the hottest woman Xander had ever seen, which was saying something.

And that _voice_. Fuck, Rupert's voice was... it was like fire in Xander's veins, which yeah, was a stupid cliché, but that was exactly how it felt. Everyone around him was bouncing on their feet, singing along to the music. But Xander just stood there, mouth dry, unable to sing the songs he knew so well, his gaze never leaving Rupert's ever-moving body.

There again! Rupert's eyes met with his own, and -- was that a smile? Oh. God.

Rupert Giles had really looked at him. And smiled.

Trying to stop acting like a teenage girl with a crush, Xander started rocking to the music with everyone, but once in a while, he'd stop, his heart beating faster, and his face flushed. God, he'd be a riot backstage later. If he could even work up the courage to go.

But when the show was over, he did. Of course he did. It wasn't like he could possibly leave at the end of the concert without taking advantage of the backstage pass he'd paid way too much money for.

It wasn't like he was going to walk away and go home, not when Ripper had smiled at him.

The end of the concert was like a crazy dream -- too many people, everyone with a direction in mind and most of them the opposite of the way Xander was trying to go. Swimming against the tide resulted in a bruised shin where someone's heavy boot connected with him, but finally he ended up where he was supposed to be; still a lot of people, but not quite so crazy. One of the other performers gave Xander a look as he passed by like he'd expected fawning and a wide-eyed request for an autograph, but all of Xander's attention was focused on finding Rupert Giles.

He was standing over near the far wall, talking to the guy who'd been on stage with him -- Theo, Xander thought, even though most of his knowledge about the band centered around Ripper and not his bandmates. Rupert laughed at something Theo said, lines around his eyes crinkling up, and then glanced around the room. His gaze settled on Xander; he smiled and tilted his head a little bit, like an invitation.

Xander's stomach was tight with nervousness as he went toward the man he'd been fascinated with since he was ten years old.

"I saw you," Rupert said. "Third row. What did you think?"

"It was great." Xander's voice shook. "You were great."

Xander's hands were shaking. Ripper _had_ noticed him; it wasn't just Xander's imagination. God, could he sound any more pathetic? 'Great'. He needed to work on his vocabulary, but apparently not now, because he couldn't utter a word anymore.

"Just great, eh?" Theo said, smirking. He patted Rupert on the back, and leaned down to whisper something that Xander couldn't hear because of all the noise in the room, but that made Rupert laugh. "I'll be gone now. Glad you liked the show." He smiled at Xander and disappeared into the crowd.

Xander gulped, sweat forming on his forehead. He really needed to think of something witty to say, something intelligent and --

Rupert leaned down closer to him. "Would you like to go somewhere more private, where we can actually hear each other instead of having to yell?"

Oh. God. Xander could feel Rupert's breath on his neck, and that _voice_ right into his ear, and Xander thought he was going to die. He couldn't even swallow anymore, because his mouth was so dry, and he found himself nodding. "Sure." He was led into what must be Rupert's dressing room, which he apparently didn't share with anyone, and Xander couldn't help but think that was a _good_ thing.

"Would you like a drink?"

Xander blinked. He'd been distracted, his eye and brain trying to take everything in at once.

Rupert smiled at him, eyes crinkling again, and Xander couldn't help thinking that the man looked even better when he smiled. "A drink?" Rupert repeated, holding out a bottle of water. "I'd offer you something stronger, but I keep those bottles at home."

Oh God, oh God, was Rupert flirting with him? No. No, of course not. Xander told himself not to be stupid, and nodded and reached out a hand for the surprisingly cold bottle of water. "Thanks. It was pretty hot out there." Okay, stupid. "I mean, it must have been hotter for you. On stage. With all those lights and everything." He was babbling. That must stop. Desperate, Xander wrenched the cap off the bottle and took several long swallows of water.

The look Rupert was giving him when he lowered the bottle was amused. Amused was good, right? Please let it be good. "It is. Some of the equipment puts off a good deal of heat, as well. So, you enjoyed yourself?"

_Don't say great,_ Xander chanted in his head. "Yeah, it was... you were really good." He resisted the urge to smack himself in the head, because that really wasn't any better. "I didn't know any of the other bands, really. I mean, I did -- I didn't grow up in a _cave._ But you were the one I wanted to see." He felt himself flushing, his cheeks burning hot, but Rupert was smiling at him, and it was a nice smile, not a mean one.

"Really? I'm flattered. I wouldn't have thought you'd know who we were." Rupert had another bottle of water, and lifted it to take a drink. Xander's gaze was locked onto the other man's throat as he swallowed. "You seem a bit young to be a fan."

"I'm not that young!" Xander protested, realizing only after he'd said it that it made him sound like an eight year old. "I mean... I grew up fast. Sometimes I feel a lot older than I am." That was a little too close to the truth for comfort, but it was too late to take it back now.

"I remember feeling that way when I was your age," Rupert said, nodding like he understood.

Xander didn't know what to add to that. It wasn't like they could share life stories at this point. Rubbing at the skin under his eye patch, he looked up, meeting Rupert's gaze. Xander blushed, trying his best not to look away, but he gave up, looking at the bottle in his hands.

"All right, then," Rupert said, taking another long swallow of water. "How long have you been a fan?"

Xander chuckled. "I was ten. My best friend and I were going through his father's music collection. He had your third album, and I was hooked. Spent months putting aside every penny I could find to be able to afford the CD collection when I was fifteen."

"Dedicated, then. I'm even more impressed," Rupert smiled again, and Xander gulped. God, the man was hot. "Have you come all the way from America?" Rupert sat on the chair by Xander's side, and leaned on his knees, eyes fixed on Xander's face.

"God, no," Xander laughed nervously. "I live here. Well, not here, here, in this part of London, but in England. Though I was in Africa for two months. But England's where I live now."

Rupert gave him another amused look, and seemed to lean closer. "What brings you to England? Work?"

"Yeah," Xander said. "Um. Pretty much. The company I work for relocated me." It wasn't the first time he'd used that line, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last. Next came the change of subject. "What about you? I mean, what do you do when you're not being a living legend?" That was a stupid way to put it, but he was feeling a little less out of control, which was a relief.

"I'm suppose I think of myself as being in early retirement," Rupert said, like he was admitting something he didn't usually admit to. It gave Xander a tingly feeling to think that he was hearing a secret.

"And you like that?"

"Is that a way of asking if I'm bored?" Rupert laughed a little bit. "No, I'm not. I've always been able to keep myself busy. And it's not as if I'm completely out of the business, as you can see." He gestured at the room around them. "I still do the occasional interview."

Xander nodded. He'd pretty much run out of things to say, which made him feel like an idiot, and he couldn't stop staring. It took him longer than it should have to realize that he wasn't the only one staring; well, okay, so maybe what Rupert was doing would more accurately be called thoughtful gazing, but it was still pretty incredible.

"And your girlfriend? I take it she's not a fan or she'd be here with you?" Rupert took another sip of water and licked a stray drop from his lips.

Xander choked. That shouldn't be allowed. That thing Rupert did with his tongue and his lip? Not legal. Not when Xander was trying to look at least a little attractive. "No -- no girlfriend," he finally managed to say when he had recovered his voice.

It's not like he had time to date anyway. After Anya, Xander had simply put that part of his life on hold. It was a good thing that work was taking up all of his time.

"Boyfriend, then?" Rupert was still watching him in that completely distracting way.

Xander shook his head. "God, no. Not that I wouldn't be interested, 'cause I would. Girl, guy, it's all good." Could he sound anymore stupid? Anytime now, his mouth would stop talking. "It's pretty new, too, the not-picky part. Well, I guess not new, but there was the denial and the trying to fit into the perfect little box thing, you know?" Stop. Talking. Now. "So yeah, just, no boyfriend or girlfriend. Just work."

Rupert was laughing at him and Xander looked down at the floor, thoroughly embarrassed.

"I understand exactly what you mean," Rupert said, and Xander looked up, surprised to see that Rupert's face was inches from his own. "It just occurred to me that I don't know your name."

"Xander -- Alexander Harris, but can call me Xander, 'cause that's what everyone calls me anyway." Xander did the mental equivalent of hitting his head on a desk and bit his lower lip in an attempt to keep himself from blurting out anymore stupidities. And he'd been doing so much better, too. But Rupert was so obviously flirting by now, and Xander wasn't sure how to respond to that. Sure, he wanted to be all flirting back, and suave, and all the things he _should_ be -- but then Rupert looked at him like _that_ and bam, Xander's brain was gone.

"Xander." Rupert said it thoughtfully, like he was rolling it over his tongue, and that image was enough to make Xander blush even more fiercely. "What? Whatever it is, tell me so that I can be sure to do it again; it's worth it if it makes your cheeks flush like that."

Oh _God,_ Rupert Giles really _was_ flirting with him!

"It's nothing," Xander said, tripping over the words like the world's biggest klutz. "I mean, I just have a dirty, dirty mind, and I can't believe I just said that. Please tell me to shut up before I have to die of embarrassment?"

"But I like listening to you," Rupert said, smooth as something really smooth that Xander couldn't think about right then, smooth as his smooth, smooth lips against Xander's, and Rupert Giles was _kissing_ him, just once but with a tiny bit of tongue that made every nerve in Xander's body thrum with excitement.

It was a short kiss, but when it ended Xander was gasping. "That wasn't what I meant," he said. "I mean, I didn't mean you had to shut me up by kissing me. Not that I'm complaining."

"Are you sure?" Rupert asked, smiling.

"Very sure," Xander said, his voice steady for once. He couldn't take his eyes away from Rupert's lips and his smile, and he hoped it was okay to lean in and kiss him again, because there was no way he could stop himself now.

No tongue this time, but Rupert put his hand on Xander's knee just as their lips met. And then the hand moved up to Xander's thigh and he moaned into the kiss. Of course, now Rupert would think Xander was easy.

And in some way he _was_ easy, because here he was, in Rupert Giles' changing room, with the man's lips pressing against his, and one hand caressing Xander's thigh, and Xander's blood went straight back to his cock.

Rupert was the one to break the kiss, his free hand coming up to cup Xander's jaw as he moved away, panting slightly. "Perhaps we should move to somewhere even more private?"

"Yes." That was a very good idea. Not that Xander usually had sex with people he'd just met, but this was Rupert Giles. And if just the sound of his voice, and the feel of his hands were enough to send Xander into happy land, then who was Xander to say no? "Yes, that's a very good idea. So, I guess the question is: my place or yours?"

~ * ~ * ~

They went to Rupert's flat, of course; he was far too familiar with the way young men like Xander, beautiful as he was, lived, and going back to that wasn't something that he cared to explore in his more mature years. There was a limosine waiting to take Rupert home, and he took the chance that Xander was the sort of man who understood that touching in the limo wasn't Something That One Did.

Clearly he'd guessed correctly. They sat across from each other in the limo and made polite small talk about the weather and the city, and soon enough they were outside Rupert's building, then walking inside past the doorman and taking the elevator upstairs to the top floor, which Rupert's flat occupied in its entirety.

Xander stood back while Rupert unlocked the door, looking sheepish. It was a look Rupert far preferred to the more familiar star-struck one, and it caused him to draw the younger man closer for another kiss before they'd even stepped through the doorway. "You haven't changed your mind?" Rupert murmured.

"What? No!" Xander flushed, causing Rupert to wonder yet again how he'd look stripped to the skin and spread out on his cream-colored sheets. "Uh-uh. Nope. Haven't changed my mind." There was that little hint of humor that Rupert found so appealing.

"Good. Then come in."

Rupert let Xander in first, closing the door behind him. It had been a while since he'd brought anyone home, and he was surprised when Xander didn't even blink at the size of the flat or the expensive nature of the furniture.

"You collect artifacts?" Xander asked, looking at one of the statues displayed on the hall shelves.

"Yes, it's a hobby I've picked up over the years," Rupert replied. His collection was mostly harmless; he'd stopped using magic in his daily life when he'd left Ethan and the others, but he hadn't stopped practicing. The most dangerous items of his collection, however, were hidden away in a safe outside of the building. They were mostly pieces Rupert had found in public markets, and he had bought them simply to make sure they wouldn't find their way into unprepared hands. "Are you a collector as well?" he asked, surprised when Xander seemed to be examining the statue more thoroughly than any of Rupert's other guests.

Xander laughed. "No, really not. They aren't my thing. But a friend of mine is. Not! Not my thing -- I meant a collector. He'd probably kill to see your collection. Maybe even literally." He turned to smile at Rupert, invitingly. "But I don't think we came here to talk about your statues."

Rupert grabbed Xander's hand, laughing, and pulled Xander closer. He wrapped his arms around Xander's torso, and gave him a quick, promising kiss. "No, indeed, we did not." Rupert hadn't been quite this -- smitten with someone in years. "Lets move to the bedroom," he whispered in Xander's ear, grinning when he was rewarded by a full body shiver. He kissed the skin right below Xander's ear, then pushed Xander forward toward the hall that led to the main bedroom.

He turned on a small lamp, because if he was going to break his rule about not getting involved with a fan so quickly -- not that he was getting involved, because this was one night, nothing more, he told himself firmly -- he intended to _see_ that fan, in all his apparent glory.

They kissed a few more times while they stood beside the bed; Xander's mouth opened to Rupert's eagerly as his hands untucked Rupert's shirt and ran up along his bare back. He was hard against Rupert's hip. "I don't do this often," Rupert told him, licking the pulse point along the younger man's throat. "Bring people home."

"You don't?" Xander sounded almost hopeful, as if wanted confirmation that he was an exception.

"No. And I haven't done it at all for quite some time. But when I saw you there in the audience... and then you turned up backstage..." Rupert kissed Xander again, long and slow, and one hand found its way all on its own to the front of Xander's trousers, rubbing firmly at the hardness of the erection underneath. The way Xander gasped was gratifying, a reminder that Rupert hadn't forgotten certain skills despite the amount of time since his last partner. "I'd like to undress you and lay you out on the bed."

Xander groaned. "Yeah. You can do anything you want with me."

"Can I?" Rupert murmured the words seductively, fingers in Xander's hair tugging his head back so that his mouth could be briefly plundered. "Can I have you, Xander?" He emphasized the word 'have,' wanting a proper answer.

Breath hitching, eye wide -- Rupert wondered again what accident had taken the other -- Xander shuddered and closed his hand around Rupert's wrist in a clutched, fleeting restraint. "Uh-huh. But hang on a second there or I'm going to embarrass myself."

Rupert understood and slid his hand back to knead at Xander's arse. "I do like that you're so responsive."

Xander half-moaned, half-laughed in his ear. "I've been fantasizing about this for years."

"Oh really?" Rupert moved his hands over Xander's back, and down his chest. "Let's get this off you," he whispered, hooking his fingers into the bottom of Xander's t-shirt and pulling it upward. He'd been right, of course he had; Xander was gorgeous. A nicely muscled chest, tanned from hours under the sun -- Africa, Xander had said, hadn't he? And Rupert couldn't wait to get the rest of Xander's clothes out of the way.

"Yeah -- uh."

Xander seemed reduced to mono-syllabic sentences, and Rupert smirked. He usually found it annoying when fans told him of their infatuation with him, but with Xander -- Rupert found it rather endearing.

"Your turn," Xander's voice was low, and sent shivers down Rupert's spine. "Want to see you."

Rupert nodded, but didn't let go of Xander's chest, running his hands over the skin, then bending down to take a nipple into his mouth. He was rewarded with a loud moan, and he bit gently into the hard nub. Rupert's hands caressed their way to Xander's back, and down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Xander's jeans. "Let's get you on the bed first, then I promise to show you all that you wish to see of me."

"Okay," Xander breathed against Rupert's hair. "As long as you promise."

Rupert lingered over undressing the younger man -- easing the button on Xander's jeans free, sliding the zip down slowly before slipping his hand inside and rubbing Xander's erection through the thin, soft fabric of his boxer shorts. He was too aroused by the sounds Xander was making, little gasps and moans, to even think about laughing at the bright, bold print on those boxer shorts; just shoved them down over narrow hips and gave a meandering lick over the skin of Xander's hip, watching with pleasure as Xander's cock throbbed in envy at the contact. By the time he'd got Xander down onto the sheets, tanned skin dark against pale cream, Rupert's own erection was fully hard and his throat felt more than a bit dry.

~ * ~ * ~

One hand was up near his head, and the other one rested on his stomach, as Xander lay on the bed and stared up at Rupert. The light in the room was pretty dim, and the whole one-eye thing didn't really help in that department, but he could see what he wanted -- needed -- to: Rupert undoing his belt. Rupert taking off his shirt, slowly, like he knew how much Xander was enjoying the watching. "You're teasing me," Xander said anyway, just to see what Rupert would say.

"Am I?" Rupert's voice was a slow drawl, if you could ever call a British accent a drawl. "Do you like it?"

"God, yes," Xander replied, his hand hitching to move downward on his stomach. His cock ached, and he wanted to touch himself as Rupert undressed, but stayed still.

Rupert's shirt was off now, and he put it carefully on the back of the chair. Xander watched his slow movements in anticipation, licking his lips at the sight of Rupert's naked chest. A sheet of soft-looking graying hair covered it, Xander's hand ached to run through it and touch the skin underneath. Then Rupert kicked off his shoes, and unbuttoned his pants, slowly lowering the zipper. His eyes were fixed on Xander's face, and that alone was enough to make Xander shiver.

Rupert's grin widened. Slowly, so very slowly, he pushed his trousers down over his hips, then down his legs. He folded them carefully, and put them with his shirt on the chair.

"You're trying to kill me here," Xander whispered, his eye fixed on Rupert's erection, which was still covered by Rupert's boxer shorts.

Rupert laughed, finally tugging his shorts down, his hands immediately finding his -- very impressive, if Xander could say so -- cock. "Not kill you, no."

Xander's breathing came in short gasps, and he didn't stop himself, his hand finding his own erection in a mimic of Rupert's movements. The bed dipped slightly as Rupert climbed in, kneeling over Xander. He bent his head slightly, and Xander met him for a kiss, their lips moving together. With a moan, Xander grabbed Rupert's shoulders, pulling him closer, even as he opened his mouth to Rupert's questing tongue.

Somewhere in there -- Xander would have been the first to admit that he'd gotten distracted by the kissing, which wasn't something that usually happened to him -- Rupert got settled between Xander's thighs, hands braced on either side of Xander as he slowly, lazily rubbed his cock against Xander's. It was one of the hottest things Xander could remember, being pinned to the bed by Rupert Giles, who was alternately kissing him and looking down at him like he was something too delicious for words.

Rupert smiled, kissing him again, and slid down, teeth finding one of Xander's nipples and biting it gently. Xander gasped; his hand stroked over Rupert's hair tentatively. He couldn't help but worry the gesture was a little too intimate, because this was, after all, a one night stand, or maybe if he was _very_ lucky, two nights, and he didn't want to give Rupert the impression that he thought it was something more.

Just because this was a fantasy brought to life...

Rupert's tongue moved lower, tracing a warm path along Xander's stomach, and he moaned and arched. "I --"

"Hush," Rupert told him, and who was he to argue? Nope, no arguing here, not with Rupert's wet, hot mouth on his dick.

~ * ~ * ~

It had been a while since he'd done this, but he found it was quite easy to get back into the rhythm. Rupert's mouth slid slowly up and down on Xander's erection, his tongue mapping the underside, then twirling around the head. He wrapped a hand around the hard shaft, holding it tightly as he sucked.

Xander made the nicest sounds. They were going straight to Rupert's cock, making it ache with want, but he ignored it. There was plenty of time. He let his other hand caress Xander's thigh, tickling the soft hair with his fingertips.

"Fuck!" Xander twisted on the sheets, making Rupert look up at him.

Smirking even as he tried to get more of Xander's cock into his mouth, Rupert brought his fingers closer to Xander's balls. He circled them with light touches, relishing the moans that escaped Xander's throat, and then moved his fingers lower. Xander's legs immediately spread apart, and Rupert pushed a finger gently against Xander's opening.

"Oh. God. Rupert --"

Xander was looking at him, and Rupert couldn't keep his eyes away from Xander's. He gave one last hard suck on the head of Xander's cock, letting it go with a pop. "Do you want this?" he asked, pressing his finger more firmly and smiling when Xander threw his head back in a loud moan and nodded. "Then let me --" Rupert reached past Xander for the bedside table, opening the drawer and rummaging through the contents looking for the bottle of lube he knew was in there. "Here you go." He held it up, watching Xander who looked back at him, eye filled with lust and breath coming in short gasps.

"I want to see you get yourself ready for me," Rupert told him, and Xander blinked and licked his lips, then nodded. His hand was shaking when he reached out, but it steadied as he took the bottle from Rupert's hand, his touch lingering.

Rupert thought he knew what was going to happen next; he was wrong. Instead of slipping a slick-wet finger into his own arse, Xander rolled onto his side, poured some of the lube into his palm and reached for Rupert's cock instead. He tugged at Rupert's balls gently first, smiling as they tightened at his touch. "Hey, this is the chance of a lifetime," Xander said, grinning up at him in a surprisingly disarming way. "And I fully intend to enjoy myself."

"I want you to," Rupert said. He told himself firmly that the way his voice faltered and caught on the last word, when Xander's thumb rubbed wetly through the slit at the tip of his cock, was entirely unnoticeable.

"I know." Xander moved to his knees and wrapped both hands around Rupert. There was no teasing to it; his touch was talented, and yet he glanced up at Rupert's face as if unsure he were doing it properly. Reassured by the slightly unfocused look in Rupert's eyes, Xander gave a few more slow, leisurely squeezes, then dispensed a bit more lube and tucked a hand between his thighs. The little gasp he gave told Rupert clearly when a fingertip had pushed its way inside, and he shuddered even as Xander did.

"Christ. You're... you're gorgeous. Perfect."

Xander blushed, a full body blush, and Rupert sat up, reaching out to touch Xander's cheek. "So bloody gorgeous." He wrapped a hand behind Xander's neck and pulled him closer, pressing their lips together in a slow kiss, Rupert's tongue darting out to part Xander's lips. He savored every one of Xander's moans, their tongues tangling together. Xander shifted and Rupert broke the kiss, lying back on the bed to watch as Xander worked his finger in and out of his body.

"Fuck," Xander groaned, adding a second finger in and working them deeper. His eye was closed and his body rocked against his fingers. Rupert couldn't remember having seen anyone as hot as Xander was now.

"That's it, Xander, prepare yourself for me," he whispered, hand reaching for the condom on the side table, without ever taking his eyes off Xander. He rolled the condom on, just as Xander opened his eye, looking straight at Rupert, and pushing a third finger in. Rupert grabbed the base of his cock tightly, groaning.

Xander bit his lower lip, moaning as he worked his fingers slowly. "I'm ready," he whispered. "How do you want me?"

"Like this." Unable to wait any longer, Rupert kissed him again, easing him back down onto the bed. He reached for Xander's hand, tangling slick-wet fingers together, then pinned it to the mattress as he settled himself between Xander's thighs. Rupert's cock prodded slippery skin eagerly, and Xander's gaze never wavered from his own as he slowly pushed his way inside.

Xander's lips parted in a silent gasp, his breath quick, body impossibly tight around Rupert. And it had been so long -- so very, very long that Rupert had forgotten how incredible this could be.

At the very least, that was easier than allowing himself to believe that it had never been so incredible before.

He thrust deeper, still moving slowly both because he didn't want to chance hurting the young man beneath him and because he was hoping this might last longer than a minute or two. Xander groaned and shuddered, the hand Rupert didn't have pressed to the bed finding Rupert's arse and squeezing.

"You don't --" Xander gasped, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. "Oh God." Another sound escaped him, harsh and desperate. "Don't stop. Please, I'm --" His nipples were tight dark points on his chest; Rupert leant in and licked at them, trapping Xander's erection between their bodies.

"Oh, I'm not stopping," he whispered, toying with the nipple, then biting at it gently. He was rewarded with another of Xander's loud moans. Xander shifted, meeting Rupert's next thrust, and they both cried out at the same time.

"Oh God. Oh God. I'm --" Xander was interrupted again, and he gasped.

"You're what?" Rupert murmured, tongue flicking across the nipple. He wanted to thrust harder, faster, but he knew it would end too soon if he did. So he kept a slow, agonizing pace. Xander was tight around his cock, so tight and warm and -- perfect. No, not perfect, he couldn't be perfect. Rupert wouldn't allow him to be.

Xander's breath was coming in short pants, his free hand kneading Rupert's arse desperately. "I'm not gonna last," he finally whispered. His words sent a shrill through Rupert's body and he let go of Xander's nipple in favor of Xander's mouth, kissing him hard.

He reached between their bodies, wrapping a hand around Xander's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Xander threw his head back, eye closing as he groaned. He tugged his hand free, and wrapped it around Rupert's hand, stilling his movement. "Please," he whimpered. "Want to last."

"I wager I can make you come twice," Rupert whispered in his ear.

"Fuck!" Xander wrapped his hand around Rupert's neck, bringing their lips together again. His other hand started moving, and Rupert followed his lead, soon taking over the rhythm.

"Want to feel you come, Xander. Will you do that for me?"

"Don't think I... have any choice --" Xander gasped against Rupert's mouth and his body tightened, clenching fiercely around Rupert's cock once before the hard flesh in Rupert's hand pulsed and throbbed, warm fluid slicking his fingers. He gritted his teeth and continued to thrust through the younger man's orgasm, telling himself sternly that he wasn't to come so soon, not when --

But Xander groaned, the sound harsh in the room, as another shudder of pleasure wracked him, and Rupert had to stop and grab onto the base of his own erection and squeeze, panting. "Christ," he said. His voice felt too thick, the air in the room too humid.

Xander's eye, which had been closed, opened, and he looked at Rupert with what appeared to be a blurry sort of sated lust. His lips parted as if he might speak, but he didn't say anything. His hand, which had been resting on Rupert's arse, stroked the skin there lightly, and then his lower body lifted and fell again in a mute request for Rupert to continue.

Rupert shook his head in an attempt to regain some of his senses. He kissed Xander again, their mouths moving slowly against each other, and Rupert would deny any notion of tenderness, but it did make his heart ache in a familiar throb. "I can't move yet, it'll be the end of it if I do. Give me a minute."

Xander nodded against Rupert's cheek, arms wrapping around Rupert's torso, fingers digging into his back. "You feel so good inside me. Even when you're not moving."

It was said with amazement, and Rupert frowned. He wondered for a moment if the young man had been a virgin. No, he definitely had experience, his body language was enough to quiet down Rupert's fears, but perhaps his previous lovers had been inexperienced, or smaller. With a smirk, Rupert sat on his heels, hands grabbing Xander's hips and pulling him closer onto his lap.

"Christ!" Rupert said again when the movement pushed his cock deeper inside Xander's tight heat. He took a deep breath, and lifted Xander's leg over his shoulder, letting the other curl around his hip. Gripping Xander's hips with his hands, Rupert started thrusting again, slowly at first, then faster as he managed to keep himself under control.

The sounds Xander made with each thrust were short but heartfelt moans. He had a corner of the pillow curled into his fist, his knuckles white as Rupert fucked him and his skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat in the light of the lamp. "God," Xander said, his voice shaky. "I'm... you're so good at this."

Rupert looked and saw that Xander's cock was still half-hard; the sight of it was enough to make his own erection throb, and his hands tightened on Xander's thighs as he did his best to stay the course. "I... appreciate the compliment," he managed to say.

Xander laughed. It made his body clench around Rupert in a series of quick spasms, and he gasped in response and slid his left hand down to grip Xander's cock as a form of retaliation.

"Fuck!" Xander shuddered beneath him, then whimpered. Rupert was well familiar with what it felt like to have overly-sensitive flesh tormented and kept his touch gentle, his thumb rubbing the spot where the bundle of nerves were drawn together. "I can't..."

"Of course you can." Rupert thrust a bit more slowly, pausing when he was deeply seated inside before pulling out again. He wasn't sure why it was important to him that the younger man come a second time; pride, most likely. Pleasure in the idea that he'd be remembered for years as a remarkable lover, that this one encounter might provide fuel for a hundred future mental fantasies.

Gasping now, head thrown back, Xander's hips rocked slightly with each of Rupert's thrusts, doing what he could to participate despite the awkward position. "God," Xander chanted. "God, oh God."

Rupert pulled Xander's legs up again, letting them both rest on his shoulders as he bent down and captured Xander's lips. "Not God, just Rupert will do," he whispered, his smile twisting as he moaned. "Bloody hell, you feel amazing."

~ * ~ * ~

Xander chuckled and blushed, his cock twitching. It hurt a bit, but the feeling of Rupert's cock in his ass largely made up for that pain. He was going to come again; he could feel it building, whether or not his body wanted it. "So -- so do you," he groaned, twisting his hips and meeting Rupert's next thrust. "Fuck!"

"Fuck is right," Rupert murmured in Xander's ear, his breath tickling Xander's hair.

Rupert's voice was almost enough to him come again; his cock throbbed, aching against Xander's stomach. Then Rupert reached between their bodies, and wrapped his hand loosely around Xander's cock. Xander got even harder almost instantly, crying out, the simultaneous simulation too much for him to even try to resist. "God, that hurts," he groaned.

"I can stop," Rupert said, his hips slowing.

Xander shook his head, wrapping a hand behind Rupert's head and pulling him down for a kiss. "Don't you dare stop," he whispered against Rupert's lips. "Not used to --" he gave a loud moan. "God! Just -- not used to speedy recovery time."

He heard Rupert chuckling, and then the hand started moving on Xander's cock, and he groaned again. Rupert's hips were moving faster, fucking Xander harder, and Xander could barely think now. The hand on his flesh, the hard cock in his ass, the mouth on his own, and it was all Xander could do to keep moving, pushing back against Rupert with each of his thrust, trying his best to keep up with the rhythm. His head was spinning, his whole body shaking, and he wanted more. More of everything, because it had never been this good before -- he had never even gotten it back up after coming, ever, with any of his partners, without some serious recovery time, and five minutes was _not_ recovery time.

It felt like he was going to die, only it was the _good_ kind of dying, the kind of dying he'd do every day if he could -- okay, maybe not _every_ day, because that really _might_ kill him, but at least once a week. "I can't -- I'm --" God, he was so, so close, and then Rupert shoved into him again, a sharp jab of a thrust, and Xander came with electricity sparkling across his skin and through every nerve. It was easily the best orgasm of his life, he realized, dazed, going limp and gasping for air as Rupert thrust a couple more times and came, too, shuddering, his heavy weight settling on Xander.

He sighed with contentment and rubbed Rupert's lower back while the other man recovered. His thigh muscles were starting to ache, but it seemed both crass and stupid to complain, so he kept quiet until Rupert made a muffled groan against his neck and knelt back, easing out of him and then tossing the used condom into a small trash barrel that was right next to the bed.

Xander wondered how many times, with how many other guys, Rupert had done this.

It didn't take much to distract him from that thought, though, and Rupert pulling him into a rough embrace, lips close to his ear, was more than enough to do it. "That was lovely," Rupert murmured. "Thank you."

"I'm the one that should be thanking you," Xander said, past the point of being able to tell if what he was saying was stupid. "That was the best sex of my life. By kind of a lot." He stroked his hands along Rupert's skin; shoulder, chest, then paused to toy with a nipple that tightened slightly at his touch. And once he'd started touching, he didn't want to stop.

Rupert was still panting, his chest moving up and down under Xander's fingers. "I'll admit it was rather amazing for me as well," Rupert said softly, staring at Xander's hands.

Xander gave a smug smile, and looked up into Rupert's eyes. The intensity of the man's gaze had Xander looking back down at his chest, cheeks flushing. It was pretty weird how much Rupert got to him, considering he barely knew the man at all. Every time Rupert looked at him, Xander felt like his skin was on fire -- although that was probably just a result of all the blushing.

Even now, utterly sated, his ass aching in pleasantly, hands roaming and caressing every bit of skin he could touch, Xander could feel his heart beating faster just by knowing that Rupert was watching him. Xander's mouth latched onto a nipple, biting and licking lazily, and he let his hands move down to caress Rupert's stomach and thighs.

Rupert gave a soft moan, his fingers playing in Xander's hair at the base of his neck. "I don't believe you'll get me up and running again, at least not without some sleep."

"Oh," Xander stopped what he was doing, looking up guiltily. He really hadn't been thinking about _that_. "I wasn't -- I didn't -- I just --" Okay, not making any kind of sense here, maybe it would be good to actually, oh, finish a sentence? Taking a deep breath, Xander licked his lips and tried again. "I really just wanted to touch you -- have I mentioned yet how good you taste? -- I don't have you forever, right? So I was just -- I don't know. Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?" He blushed again, hiding his face against Rupert's shoulder. "Stopping now."

"Not ridiculous, no," Rupert said, cupping Xander's jaw and forcing him to look up. "I'm sorry, I rather misinterpreted your -- actions. I'm not used to anyone touching me who isn't trying to -- erm, get me going, I could say, and I'm honest when I say I won't be ready for another round until I've had some sleep. But if you really wish to touch, then please do. It's not as though I'm not enjoying your hands."

Somehow, Xander was in the right frame of mind to accept that without any more convincing. He bent his head and licked at Rupert's nipple again. "I just really like touching you," he said. Sliding his hand down and around, he smoothed his palm over Rupert's ass. "I hope you can sleep with me doing this, because I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to stop."

He could hear the amusement in Rupert's voice when the other man answered. "I suspect I'd sleep rather well through nearly anything at this point."

"I really did tire you out," Xander said. He nuzzled higher, nose and lips brushing over the soft skin of Rupert's collarbone. "But yeah, I'm actually kind of worn out, too. It's not like this is part of my daily -- weekly. Monthly. Routine."

"No?" Rupert's hand settled at the back of Xander's neck and played with the hair there. "I'd think you'd have all sorts of offers."

Xander snickered. "Oh, yeah, lots of offers -- not at all. And even if I did have offers, it's not like I have time to pursue them. Work is kinda time consuming."

"You must really like what you're doing, then?" Rupert asked, his voice starting to sound sleepy to Xander's ears. His fingers slowed down, and when Xander looked up, Rupert's eyes were closed, but he was still smiling.

"I -- I guess they say it's a calling? I'm not sure. But yeah, it's -- I'm doing some good there." Of course, sometimes he felt like he wanted to just leave and let everyone else handle the situation; it's not like _he_ had made the slayers after all, but you couldn't just walk away from this life. And --

He really shouldn't be distracted like that when he was trying to map out every inch of Rupert Giles' body. Nuh uh. Xander went back to it, his mouth following his hands as he brushed his fingers across Rupert's stomach, playing in the soft hair, and toying with Rupert's nipples. He felt it the moment Rupert fell asleep, the man's breathing slowing down to a relaxing rhythm, and Xander smiled, moving to the arms, and then down the legs. He went back up Rupert's torso, kissing his way from hip to neck, settling his head against Rupert's shoulder. He wasn't going to sleep, he really didn't want this to end, he would just give his eye a little rest.

Only, the next thing he knew, the familiar and annoying sound of his cell phone was waking him up. Pale, early morning sunlight was streaming in through the windows, and Rupert's arm was wrapped around his waist from behind, the other man's warmth so unbelievably good that for a second or two Xander was tempted to ignore the phone.

Then it rang again, and he practically fell onto the floor in his haste to find his pants -- stupid pants, where were they? He grabbed them by the ankles and shook them until the phone slipped free, then snatched it up and flipped it open. "Hello?"

~ * ~ * ~

More than the ringing of the phone, it was Xander stumbling off the bed that woke up Rupert. He rolled onto his back, groaning, and blinked at the ceiling. Every single muscle in his body ached, and Rupert smiled as he remembered the night before; Xander's warmth, his hands, his mouth --

And something in Xander's conversation caught his ear. Rupert didn't want to eavesdrop, he always hated it when someone eavesdropped on him. He sat up on the bed, rubbing his face, and looked at Xander, who was hurriedly putting on a pair of pants.

"Buffy, this really isn't the time -- I'm downtown -- I told you, there was a concert -- look, not my fault there's an apoca-- crisis at work." Xander smiled apologetically at Rupert and walked out of the bedroom, still talking loud enough for Rupert to hear. "Hey, Edwards, I just tried telling Buffy -- the slay-- girls can -- look, I can't talk right now, I'll call you back as soon as I can." He sighed. "No --"

Xander was out of Rupert's hearing range now, and Rupert shook his head as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Looked like his time with Xander was going to be cut short. And what was he talking about? It was obvious that Xander had stopped himself from finishing some of the words and caught himself at the last minute. It was just Rupert's imagination that was filling in the blanks, because there was no way Xander had been about to say things like 'apocalypse' and 'slayers'. Xander couldn't know about them. Xander was simple, and beautiful, and a wonderful lay. Not someone who dabbled in -- _that_.

Then Rupert remembered. Xander had called his work a 'calling' right before Rupert had fallen asleep. And the interest with which he had examined Rupert's statue the previous night was almost puzzling. Perhaps there was more to Xander Harris than met the eyes.

"I know! I know. Two hours, okay? I'll be back in..." Xander's voice was hushed but easy enough to hear as he returned to the bedroom. His gaze met Rupert's again, and Rupert lay back down, running a hand from his chest to his stomach as his cock stirred and thickened at the prospect of another fantastic shag. "Two and a half," Xander amended, grinning at Rupert. "Yes. Definitely."

Xander hung up the phone, tossed it down onto the carpet, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sorry about that," he said. "You know, work. Sometimes things are just... crazy."

"So it would seem." Rupert's curiosity was more than piqued, but at that moment he was even more interested in having Xander's body beneath his, in hearing the sound of his own name gasped aloud. He reached out and undid the button on Xander's trousers slowly, and Xander gave a small, relieved moan and leaned to kiss him.

"Thank God," Xander muttered against his lips. "I thought... maybe last night was a one-time thing. And I'm okay with that -- honest -- but I'd really, really like it if it could be a two-time thing. Three, even." His mouth was hot and eager, and his hand found Rupert's swelling erection and squeezed.

"Bloody hell!" Rupert gasped against Xander's lips, slipping his hand inside Xander's trousers. Doing this more than once sounded absolutely wonderful to Rupert right now, especially when Xander was touching him this way. He was starting to believe he would crave Xander's touch once he was gone, relishing the feeling of it, and the sounds Xander made. It made Rupert's head spin, made his skin tingle, made him feel young once more, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. And he fancied himself meeting Xander again, and perhaps --

No. There would be no fanciful thoughts, not when Xander was warm and eager under his hands. He couldn't get involved with a fan again, Rupert was perfectly aware of that, and he should only enjoy what he knew he could have. No matter how delightful, and gorgeous, and interesting Xander was, this moment was all they had left, and once Xander had gone, it would end.

But Xander kept tugging at Rupert's resolve, and just the way he looked right now would have made Rupert promise him anything if he'd asked.

"Three --" he gasped again, his hand wrapping around Xander's hard cock and pulling it out of Xander's trousers. "Definitely a two-time thing, three-time if we can -- before you have to leave. Wouldn't want to make you late for work."

Xander kissed him again, his tongue slipping inside Rupert's mouth, making him moan. "I wish I didn't have to leave," he whispered longingly, standing up from the bed, and wiggling out of his pants. Rupert beckoned him closer, lying down on the bed, and groaning as Xander settled over him, their cocks sliding against each other.

"I really, really want you to fuck me again," Xander went on. "Would you? I mean, will you?"

Rupert settled his hands on Xander's firm young arse and thrust up against him. "There's nothing I'd like more," he murmured. He kissed Xander's throat, the soft spot beneath his ear, fingers slipping between Xander's thighs where he was still slick from the night before. "Like this?"

Licking his lips, Xander blinked twice, slowly, already dazed with arousal in a way that made him, as far as Rupert was concerned, a rare prize of a partner in bed. "Yeah," he agreed; he shifted his knees higher, spreading himself wide, balls brushing the head of Rupert's cock as he settled into position.

"Condom," Rupert reminded him gently, gesturing at the drawer, and Xander blinked again before flushing and retrieving one. He put it on Rupert, twisted half way round in a way that demonstrated his flexibility as he rolled the thin latex down along Rupert's length. "There," Rupert said, and took Xander's hips in both hands and pushed into him, slowly, groaning as much at the glazed look in Xander's eye as at the sensation, incredible though that was.

" _Yes_ ," Xander gasped. His hands clutched at Rupert's arms briefly. Moved to either side of Rupert, braced over him. Waited.

And Rupert went deep, as deep as he could, gaze shifting down to Xander's erection, which had softened somewhat. He stilled, and Xander made a little sound of yearning. "Ride me," Rupert whispered, and Xander moaned and obeyed, beginning to move.

~ * ~ * ~

Xander kept the rhythm slow and deep, each downward stroke making Rupert's cock brush against his prostate. "God," he groaned, panting for breath, his body shuddering. Xander bent down, kissing Rupert's lips briefly.

"You -- God -- Xander," Rupert gasped against Xander's lips, and Xander wished he could hear him say his name like that again and again, because it _felt_ like sex. It sent shivers down Xander's spine, and he groaned again, moving his hips faster.

It felt so good, maybe even too good; the kind of good that Xander would dream about for a long time, and then some. "God, you feel so good," he whimpered, straightening up and slamming down on Rupert, gasping.

"Amazing," Rupert murmured back, his hands coming around to grab Xander's ass tightly. He angled his hips, meeting Xander hard for the next thrust. "So -- bloody -- amazing," he said again, panting harshly.

And Xander wondered, in his lust filled haze, if he would ever be able to enjoy having sex with another man in the future, because none of his other male lovers -- and admittedly, it hadn't been _that_ many -- had ever felt this good, filling him up and fucking him until Xander's head spun, and he thought he was going to die -- and it was the best kind of death, ever. With every thrust Rupert was spoiling him for other men, and, weirdly, Xander knew he wouldn't have had it any other way. "Fuck -- Rupert -- touch me, please," Xander pleaded, his cock aching for it.

He was so close, so fucking close, and it didn't take much more than the feel of Rupert's hand wrapped around his dick, a couple of firm squeezes and he was coming, the combined pressure on his prostate and the head of his cock practically pulling him inside out, shudders wracking his body and making him cry out in desperate ecstacy.

When Xander came back to himself, Rupert's erection was softening inside him, the other man's large hand settled at the back of his neck a comforting weight. Rupert's lips brushed against his temple, close enough to his eye patch that it would have made him a little nervous any other time. Now, though, he didn't have the energy for nervous. "I dunno," Xander murmured, cheek pressed to Rupert's collar bone. It was kind of uncomfortable, actually. "I think a third time might kill me."

Rupert laughed softly. "Well, we wouldn't want that."

"No, we really wouldn't." Xander knew he should move, and he would. Any second now. "I'm not just imagining things, right? I mean, that _was_ some of the most earth-shattering sex in the history of sex?" It didn't occur to him until the words had already passed his lips that it was an awkward question to both speak and hear the answer to if that answer was no.

Luckily, Rupert said, "No," followed immediately by, "No, you're not imagining things. That was most definitely earth-shattering."

"Oh good," Xander said, sighing and staying where he was for just one more second. "It'd be kind of embarrassing if I was the only one who thought that, you know?"

Rupert chuckled softly. "Yes, I can see how it would be embarrassing," he whispered, cupping the back of Xander's head, his fingers brushing the hair there gently.

Xander shifted slightly, letting himself slide to Rupert's side slowly, still not in any hurry to let go of him. Apparently, his brain wasn't yet functioning properly because he whispered: "Don't want to let you go yet." He bit his lower lip, face flushing almost immediately when he realized what he'd said. "Forget I said that." He rolled away.

Rupert's hand stopped him, tugging him back close. "No." He hooked a leg over Xander's gathering him close against his chest, both of them facing each other on the bed. "You don't get to move until I say so."

"Really?"

"Really," Rupert replied, cupping Xander's jaw, his thumb brushing the skin almost tenderly -- except Xander wouldn't call it tender, because it made his heart ache, and this was a one-night stand. One-night stands did not end with heart-ache inducing gestures.

Xander coughed, heart hammering in his chest. "I'll -- I'll have to -- to grab a shower before I leave," he stammered.

Placing a soft kiss on Xander's lips, Rupert drew back until he could look into Xander's eye, loosening his grip. "How long until you have to leave, to make it back on time?"

Xander twisted his head, looking at the clock. "Maybe forty-five minutes? An hour at most."

"Perhaps you should head for the shower, then. I'll cook up something to eat for you."

Xander grinned. "Great sex _and_ food? You totally know how to treat a guy," he said, not moving an inch, even though Rupert's arms were loose around him. In a moment -- in a moment, he'd go. For now, he was content to stay right where he was.

"I'll even drive you myself, if that will help." Rupert's voice was soothing, and something about him just made Xander feel like... well, like Rupert would take care of him.

And _that_ was a confusing enough feeling that he pushed up onto his elbow and looked at Rupert. _Really_ looked at him, and really saw him as a person and not just the object of a fantasy so deeply ingrained that he didn't think it would ever be possible to shake it.

Rupert met his gaze steadily, not even blinking for several long moments. Then, "What is it?" he asked, running his fingers through Xander's hair right above his ear.

"You'll think I'm nuts," Xander said.

"I very much doubt that." Rupert pulled him back down and hugged him. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's quite sensible."

Xander laughed a little bit at that. "Sensible," he repeated. "Not really a word I've heard used about me much. Or ever, actually."

"I find that difficult to believe. You strike me as someone who had to grow up rather more quickly than he would have liked. Someone who had a fair amount of responsibility thrust upon him at an early age."

"Among other things," Xander agreed, because flattering as that was he still had kind of a dirty mind. "I don't know. I guess I crossed some kind of line. Not a bad one," he added quickly. "Just, you know, the one where you stopped being a famous person and started being... a real person."

Rupert just blinked, his arms tightening around Xander momentarily. "I -- thank you."

Not exactly the response Xander had been waiting for, not that he'd actually had a specific one in mind, but 'thank you' wasn't really it either way. "I'm not sure why you're thanking me."

Chuckling, Rupert cupped Xander's cheek once again and lifted his face until Xander was looking right at him. "I have to admit that I've had quite a few fans in my bed over the years, and I don't believe any of them ever saw me as anything more than just famous." Then he added, voice low. "You are -- far more interesting than any of them ever were."

"Just interesting, eh?" Xander grinned, with an urge to lean down and kiss Rupert again, but he managed to stop himself by biting into his lower lip -- which was starting to be a bit sore from all the times he'd bitten into it since waking up.

"Now you're simply fishing for compliments," Rupert chuckled, and Xander was pulled down again until their lips were inches apart. "I mean it, you are different from all of them, somehow -- someone I'd be rather interested to see again --" It was said in a soft voice, barely audible, like Rupert was admitting to something he wasn't sure he should have.

Xander's heart was beating faster, hammering in his chest and resonating loud into his ears. Rupert couldn't mean it the way Xander was hearing it. He just couldn't, because that would mean that it was more than a one-night stand for Rupert, and then Xander was going to start hoping, and that led nowhere good.

"I --" Rupert started, his thumb brushing Xander lower lip gently. "Perhaps we should --"

"Get up, yeah," Xander said, nervously, his eye darting down to Rupert's lips and then up to his eyes again. God, he wanted to kiss him again, press their lips together, and stop _thinking_ , because thinking wasn't leading anywhere good at the moment, and Xander really should make his imagination stop providing him with scenarios in which they didn't say goodbye in the end. So he did kiss Rupert, his tongue licking Rupert's lips and seeking entrance, moaning when Rupert tightened his arms around him, and he shuddered.

But when the kiss ended, Rupert was looking at him again, in that same way, the way that made Xander's stomach flip over with nervousness.

"What's wrong?" Rupert asked, concerned.

"Nothing," Xander said.

"If I promise not to think you're 'nuts,' will you tell me?" God, there was just something about Rupert's accent, about the way his voice went all soft and rough at the same time, that made Xander want to trust him.

"It's just... it's been kind of a long time," Xander said. "Since I met someone I really liked. And things didn't go so well last time, so..." Explaining about Anya wasn't something he thought he'd ever be able to do.

It had taken Xander a while to make his peace with her death, and even now he wasn't sure he was over it. He wasn't sure he'd _ever_ be over it. But Rupert didn't ask him to explain, he just touched Xander again, the palm of his hand resting on Xander's hip. It made Xander want to tell him everything. For the first time since the destruction of Sunnydale, Xander wanted to tell someone about Anya, and the fact that it was Rupert Giles, a rock star, a near stranger, terrified him.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Xander," Rupert said, his voice soft like the touch of his hand.

"I know." Xander sighed, bringing up his hand to cup Rupert's cheek. God, he was beautiful, so beautiful. "I just -- really like you, and I don't think I should -- because none of my relationships ever end well. Not that this is a relationship," he added. "Just -- I --"

"Shush," Rupert whispered, kissing Xander again.

"Sorry," Xander said sheepishly. "There's a slight possibility that I'm freaking out a little bit."

"Really?" Rupert smiled. It was a nice smile, not a mean one, although there was a small part of Xander that suspected Rupert was more than capable of a mean smile if the situation warranted it. "It's all right. Don't apologize. It may not seem like it, but I may be a bit 'freaked out,' myself." He caressed Xander's bare hip, then patted it. "Come on, then. Let's get cleaned up, get a bit of food into you, and I'll drive you wherever you need to go."

It would have been a quick shower if they hadn't gotten distracted by touching each other's warm, soapy skin; it would have been a longer one if they hadn't both been totally spent. Putting on the clothes he'd worn the night before, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke, was less pleasant than Xander would have guessed. Still, leaning against the counter in Rupert Giles' kitchen while the other man made him tea and eggs and toast was pretty amazing.

They ate in silence, stealing glances at each other over their plates. Xander couldn't stop smiling, and he blushed when he felt Rupert's eyes on him. He ate quickly. "Thank you," he said after he'd wolfed down the last piece of toast. "That was really great."

"You're welcome," Rupert replied, giving him an amused look, his plate still half full in front of him. "You seem like you needed it."

Xander looked down at his empty plate, licking his lips. "Very much, yeah. You wore me out."

Rupert chuckled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that Xander liked so much. Xander stood and brought his dishes into the kitchen, rinsing them, and putting them in the sink. He came back and sat on his chair, watching and waiting for Rupert to finish eating. He didn't want to leave, really didn't, and it made his stomach ache in that way that meant he was screwed, because he definitely liked -- everything -- a little too much. The next few days were going to be hell.

Rupert had said he was freaking out too, though, so maybe there was a chance they would see each other again. Maybe. God, he really needed to stop thinking.

"Are you ready?"

Xander looked up, startled. Somehow, while he'd been lost in his thoughts, Rupert had finished eating and cleared the table. He was standing close to Xander now, waiting. "Yeah."

~ * ~ * ~

Rupert unlocked the passenger door for Xander before walking around and getting in.

"Nice car," Xander said admiringly.

"Isn't it? I don't drive it nearly as much as I should, but then I suppose that means it will stay in good condition." He looked at Xander, who'd done up his seatbelt without being asked and whose lips, if Rupert weren't mistaken, were still a bit swollen from their earlier kissing. "I didn't learn to drive until I was twenty-two." The confession surprised him -- it was the sort of thing he just didn't tell people.

"Really? Where I grew up, driving was like a rite of passage. I borrowed this car one time, from my uncle. It was cool." Xander's hand caressed the seat beside his thigh almost reverently. "Not like this; it was old, but still. Cool."

Rupert chuckled. "What did you do with your uncle's car?" He turned the keys into the ignition, and wheeled the car out of the underground parking lot. He stopped at the first light, and suddenly realized he had no idea where they were going.

"I --" Xander started, stammering. "I tried to impress some girls at school, and, you know, look cool. But, well --" Rupert turned to look at him, and Xander blushed. "Let's just say it didn't turn out to be the best day ever."

Rupert really did like that color on him, and he had trouble tearing his eyes away to look back at the road. "Where are you going, then?" Xander gave him directions to a small town outside of London. A small town Rupert remembered as housing at least one of the many council facilities. He scolded himself; the council had facilities all over England. Surely this was nothing more than a coincidence. He cursed his overactive imagination once again and smiled at Xander. "So, how long have you been in England?"

"Oh. Hm. More than a year," Xander said.

"And you like it? As well as America?" Rupert leaned back in his seat a bit, getting comfortable.

"I guess. It's different, but not in bad ways." Xander cleared his throat. "Well, except for the food."

"Believe me, that's not the first time I've heard that complaint," Rupert chuckled. He'd spent enough time with Americans to have a fairly good idea of their opinions about England in general.

"It's well-founded." Xander sounded amused. "You guys really need to do something about that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like a good biryani as much as the next guy, but your pizza is severely lacking, not to mention it's almost impossible to find calzones. I've lost fifteen pounds since I moved here." Pause. "Um, not that that's a bad thing."

"You look wonderful to me," Rupert said honestly, reaching over to pat Xander's thigh with what might have been a bit too much familiarity but which still felt surprisingly natural.

Xander chuckled, his cheeks flushing again.

"It's quite interesting how easy it is to make you blush," Rupert said, stealing a glance at Xander.

"That's a 'you' thing," the young man replied, touching Rupert's thigh. "I don't usually blush that easily. You're just -- different."

Rupert concentrated on the road for a little while, suddenly uncomfortable. This was all becoming a little bit too personal, and he was, despite himself, starting to open up to the idea of seeing Xander again. Xander's voice drew him away from his thoughts. "Pardon?"

"I said, you need to take the next exit," Xander repeated. "You really shouldn't be distracted when you're driving," he added with a smile.

"That would be all your fault," Rupert replied, shaking his head, and embarking on the exit. He stole another glance at Xander, and grinned.

"Well, I'd say that's kind of flattering except for the part where you could end up running off the road." Xander clasped his hands near his knees. "Will it help if I promise to keep my hands to myself?"

"It probably wouldn't hurt," Rupert said. Even remembering what Xander's hands had felt like on his body was distraction enough. And if that was all it had been, just the physical connection, it might have been easier to shrug off.

"It's only another mile or so. Kilometer. Whatever," Xander said, and dear Lord, even the sound of his voice made Rupert feel warm and happy in ways he hadn't in far too long.

Sternly, he told himself that this was ridiculous. He was _not_ falling in love with a man -- practically a _boy_ \-- half his age, whom he'd just met.

Xander directed him to a small, dark building. An old one, possibly from the late 18th century. Rupert didn't see much more of it as he parked out front, stopping the car and turning to Xander. "I --" he paused, unsure of what to say that wouldn't sound entirely too personal.

Xander picked up Rupert's hand, his fingers brushing the palm. "I'd really like to see you again," he admitted, staring down.

Rupert sighed and smiled, relieved. "So would I." The smile that Xander gave him in return was more than worth it. "Perhaps you should give me your telephone number?" It was incredibly stupid and perhaps more than a little mind boggling, considering how very little they knew each other, but Rupert knew he couldn't just let Xander go.

Grinning, Xander let go of Rupert's hand and fished in the pockets of his jacket, coming up with a pen. "Do you have a piece of paper?"

Reaching for the glove compartment, Rupert opened it and picked up the address book he kept there. He tore a page out of it and gave it to Xander. After Xander had written a number, and his name, on the page, Rupert folded it and slipped it into his pocket. He cupped Xander's jaw, brushing his thumb against the skin gently. "I'll call you."

"Okay."

"No," Rupert said, because he needed to be sure that Xander understood. "I'm going to call you tonight. If that's all right."

Xander smiled with astonishing sweetness and turned his head quickly to kiss Rupert's fingers. "Okay," he said. "I'll talk to you tonight." He opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He'd barely shut the door again, the muffled thud of it an ending to the morning they'd spent together, when Rupert saw a dark shadow moving with alarming speed flash by, saw it collide with Xander, knocking him to the ground; Xander gave a startled shout that Rupert heard even from inside the car, and then Rupert was outside on the street before he'd even thought.

He ran around the front of the car, toward Xander, who was wrestling with -- it didn't matter what it was, Rupert's brain was already telling him, because he'd left all this behind, this wasn't part of his life anymore -- something, some homeless person dressed in torn rags, that's what it was, what it had to be. Xander had already managed to get the upper hand, pinning his opponent to the ground and striking it once in the face with an impressive amount of force, but even as Rupert watched Xander was thrown backward.

Xander stumbled down to the ground, and Rupert saw him reach inside his jacket for something, but his attacker was on him again before Xander could get to whatever it was. Rupert watched, astonished, as Xander pushed the -- the _demon_ (he saw the horns, there was no denying what it really was, despite how much Rupert's brain wished it could) -- off of his body and stumbled to his feet.

The demon came at him with a vengeance, and the punch it delivered to Xander's jaw sent Xander reeling a few feet, whatever he had grabbed from inside his jacket tumbling to the ground away from him. Shaking his head to try to regain his senses, Rupert ran to the object, picking it up just as Xander was thrown down again, his hands and legs pinned by the demon's weight.

It snarled, the sound loud in the empty street. Rupert looked down at the stake in his hands. He remembered how to use it. You don't ever forget something as primordial as how to handle a wooden stake. With just a little hesitation -- it had been a long time, after all -- Rupert hurriedly sneaked behind the demon and drove the stake with all the force he could muster into the thing's back. It roared and turned around. Rupert gasped. Perhaps it hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped, but just as he was stepping back a few feet, the demon collapsed to the ground.

"Bloody hell," Rupert said, breathing heavily. The demon remained where it had fallen, unmoving.

"I'd like to second that," Xander said as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Stunned, Rupert moved closer and held out a hand, and Xander didn't hesitate to take it. "Thanks," he said, once he was on his feet again. His cheek was scraped, whether from the pavement or the demon's blows Rupert didn't know; he nudged the demon with one shoe, but it seemed either unconscious or dead.

Rupert started, "That was --"

"Wow, these crazed, body-modified young people these days, huh?" Xander said quickly. "Sometimes I think they're taking so many drugs they've forgotten that Halloween isn't until October."

"Xander --" Rupert was stunned, uncertain.

"Don't worry," Xander said, taking Rupert's arm and starting to walk him back to his car. "I'll call the police and get this all taken care of, okay?"

Behind them, the door of the building opened and four young women of varying heights came out, their stances familiar as they sized up the situation. "Xander!" one of them shouted, and Rupert and Xander turned at the same time to see a second demon headed toward them from the other side of the street.

"Go!" Xander said, propelling him toward the building instead of the car as the women -- girls, really -- ran past. By the time Rupert and Xander got inside, the girls were engaged in battle, not that it seemed likely to take long considering their obvious expertise. "So," Xander said, chuckling weakly. "Those crazy body-modified young people seem to be running in packs these day."

"Xander --" Rupert started again.

"Xander!" A young woman with blonde hair ran into the lobby. "You said you were going to be here half an hour ago!"

"Hello to you, too, Buffy. No, I'm all right, you don't need to worry about me -- us." Xander nodded at Rupert, and the woman -- Buffy -- turned to him.

"Oh, hi! I'm sorry. I'm Buffy Summers. We're having a bit of a situation here. You are?" She looked genuinely puzzled, and a tad nervous as well.

"Rupert Giles," Xander answered for him, before Rupert could even open his mouth.

For a moment, Rupert wondered if he'd stepped into the twilight zone, although it was refreshing to meet somebody who had no idea who he was. (Though he had to admit it was starting to happen a lot more frequently now that he was getting older.) "A pleasure to meet you," he said, shaking her hand, and then turned back to Xander. "What's going on?"

"Street fights!" Buffy answered before Xander could put a word in. "You know, these crazy kids." She shrugged it off and tried to change the topic. "How did you meet Xander?"

Rupert wondered if he should laugh; the situation was certainly comical enough. It was obvious they were used to trying to cover up these -- attacks for the civilians, but this was getting ridiculous. "A concert," he answered swiftly, before turning back to Xander again. "Street fights?"

Xander gave another nervous chuckle, and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, we're --"

"You can save the chit chat, Xander," another voice interrupted. A man was walking into the lobby.

Rupert turned around, and smirked. Of course; now it made sense. He knew that man from a long time ago, another lifetime; although he was older now, and definitely had seen better days. "Geoffrey Edwards." Boarding school; they had been -- well, perhaps friends wasn't the best word for it, but acquaintances; they both came from the same background, and their fathers had been longtime friends. It seemed that, contrary to Rupert, Edwards had followed the path his father had laid out for him after all.

"Hello, Rupert. It's been a while."

Rupert shook Edwards' hand, smiling tightly. He'd been right. "So, Xander, how long have you been working for the Watchers' Council?" he asked, looking back, and trying to act as nonchalant as he could given the situation. Perhaps he really should not have met Xander after all. This was not a situation he had envisioned being in ever again, and definitely not something he wanted to get involved in at all.

"The what?" Xander said, after a moment of leaving his mouth hanging open. "I'm not... this isn't..." He swallowed, making an obvious effort to get control of himself. "I guess pretending I have no idea what you're talking about isn't going to fly."

"Not really," Rupert said.

"Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to discuss this," Edwards said, giving Xander a look that was almost certainly meant to warn him not to reveal any well-kept secrets. "Buffy?" The young woman -- Slayer, Rupert assumed -- had moved to the doors to watch the fight, which seemed to be over already. Rupert wondered if the girls outside were what had once been referred to as potential slayers, and if so how they'd been identified as such.

"They're good," Buffy said, turning.

"Of course they are," Edwards said.

Buffy blinked and glanced at Xander and Rupert. "Oh. Oh! Right. Um, we've got..." She gestured behind her. "That thing... we need to do."

"Don't be long," Edwards said to Xander. He offered Rupert his hand again and they shook. "Good to see you again, Rupert."

The girls came in from outside, dragging several bodies of demons with them, voices low and surprisingly professional considering their apparent ages. Within two minutes Rupert and Xander were alone in the lobby, the only sign that it had been otherwise moments before the soft sound of the elevator's dinging as it moved upward.

~ * ~ * ~

"So -- um -- you know Edwards?" Xander knew it was lame, really lame, but this whole thing was getting out of hand.

"Yes," Rupert answered, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms on his chest.

"How --" Xander sighed. "Sorry, I guess I should answer your question first, right?" He stood besides Rupert, his back to the wall. "Just a bit over a year. That I've been working for the council, that is. But -- I've been in the -- um -- business, I guess you can call it -- for over seven years." Xander rubbed his forehead, and looked over at Rupert. "I stumbled on a conversation Buffy and Edwards were having in the school library, then my two best friends were abducted by vampires, we saved one, I had to stake the other, and the rest is history."

Rupert just nodded.

"I couldn't walk away." Xander sounded too apologetic, even to his own ears, and he cringed.

"I did," Rupert said, sighing. "My father and grandmother were watchers. I knew I was to become one myself from the day I turned ten. I ran away from Oxford in my last year -- wanted to see the world. The night before I was planning to come home and resume my training, Oscar Henry found me playing at a pub in one of the seediest part of London, and offered me a contract."

"I can see why you didn't come home. Being a rock star has to be much more fun than being a stuffy watcher," Xander said, with a hesitant grin. Then he closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. "If -- if you don't want to see me anymore, I understand." It hurt to say it, made Xander's heart ache, but he really would understand. This wasn't an easy life, and if Rupert had already walked away, he probably didn't want to come back to it.

"If we're being completely honest with each other -- which is what I'd prefer -- then I'll admit I have... some reservations." It seemed like Rupert was choosing his words carefully; Xander wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a really, really bad one. He waited, and Rupert went on, "But... I also like you. Very much. And it's been long enough since that happened that I'm willing to take a bit more time and see how things develop."

Xander's breath left him in a rush. "That's... that's great. Really great."

Rupert gave him a small smile, then took a deep breath. "Perhaps I should go. You need to go to work, and I've -- I need to think." Okay, that didn't sound good. At least, not to Xander, but before he could really start worrying, Rupert continued. "Edwards must have phoned my dear father by now."

Xander nodded. He was going to say goodbye when a thought passed through his mind. "Wait," he said. "Arthur Giles... that's your father, right?" Xander had met the man once, when Edwards had called all the retired watchers in to talk about 'the future of the Council'. Giles had been the only one of the remaining watchers who had refused to help Edwards and the rest of them in any capacity unless all the old traditions were put back into place. The way he'd looked at them all, and the tone he'd used -- the man had left Xander with a sick feeling in his stomach, and an intense desire never to see him again. Not that he looked evil, or bad or anything... "I'm so sorry," Xander said, and then, realizing what he'd just said, he bit his lower lip to force himself not to say anything stupid. "Edwards won't call him, you can be sure of that."

Rupert's laughter took Xander by surprise, and made him smile. "You've met my father, then?"

"Once," Xander replied. "And, um, I think I get why you ran away."

"He made an impression then?"

Xander laughed, watching as Rupert walked closer. "Yeah, you could say that."

Rupert touched Xander's shoulder lightly. "I haven't seen him in over two decades now. But enough about him." He cupped Xander's cheek and brushed his thumb against Xander's lip. "I shouldn't kiss you here, should I?"

Xander licked his lips. "Probably not." It would be a really bad idea, really bad, but damn, he wanted it. Rupert pulled away, sighing, and Xander looked down and away. "I should -- I'll walk you to your car, just in case."

"All right."

He could tell by the way Rupert walked that he wasn't scared, which was... surprisingly cool. Most people would have been pretty freaked out; then again, most people wouldn't have jumped into the fight and killed a demon. Most people would have run away screaming and never come back.

Most people, Xander had learned, were probably smarter than he was. The fact that Rupert Giles was both smart _and_ brave made him an even more incredible catch than Xander ever would have expected, and he was still trying to figure out how he felt about that.

They reached the car, walking around to the driver's side, and Rupert paused, turning to face Xander. "This doesn't change any of what I said before," Rupert told him, meeting his gaze with a steadiness that was reassuring. "I'll phone you this evening." There was the tiniest bit of a question to it.

"Okay," Xander said, grinning a little bit. He stepped forward, meaning to brush the lightest of kisses over Rupert's lips, but Rupert's hand caught at his waistband and tugged him forward, off-balance, so that he ended up pressed to the other man's warm front and kissing him with more force than he'd intended.

Xander really meant to pull back at some point, Rupert's lips just felt too good against his to end this too soon. Rupert was the one who pulled away first, cupping Xander's cheek, before he turned back and unlocked his door. "Be careful."

Xander grinned; it felt kind of weird, but a good weird, to know that Rupert cared enough to say that. "I will." He always was. Rupert smiled back, and climbed into his car. Xander crossed his arms on his chest and walked back to the sidewalk, watching as Rupert's car sped away.

A goofy smile on his face, he shook his head, and swept his gaze across the deserted street. A shiver ran down his spine, remembering how fast the demon had closed in on him earlier, and with one last look in the direction Rupert's car had gone, he hurried back inside the Council building.

He met Buffy and Edwards upstairs, finding them both waiting for him in Edwards' office. "So -- what's going on?"

Buffy snorted. "That's what I was going to ask you, actually."

Xander blushed, looking at the windows which had a direct view into the street below, right where Rupert's car had been parked. "Um, yeah, about that..."

Edwards interrupted them both. "While I'm quite curious as to how exactly you met Rupert Giles, and ended up -- erm, in this situation, we have a demon problem at hand that we should take care of first."

Oh yeah, Xander loved Edwards. A whole lot. Like really much. He was going to ask him out on a date -- except maybe not, because he really didn't want to go on a date with Edwards, but still, he was going to do something to show his love for the man, soon. "Thanks," Xander whispered, and Edwards rewarded him with an eyeroll and a pointed look. "Yeah, demons. Let's talk about those demons."

In the long run, talking about the demons ended up taking a back seat to _dealing_ with the demons. There were attacks all over London throughout the course of the day, which pretty much kept the slayers, not to mention most of the rest of the Council, jumping.

Except for the part where Xander failed to jump fast enough and ended up getting slammed into a brick wall on the outskirts of Notting Hill. He'd thought he was on top of things, but the demon had come at him from his blind side and by the time he'd seen it, it was too late. He was still reeling, the pain in his head and shoulder fading from the first initial bright flare into a solid ache, when the last two demons were taken down, and then Buffy was crouched at his side, touching his arm.

"Xander? Are you okay?" Like always, she was already hauling him to his feet before he had a chance to answer.

"Yeah," he said. "Okay. You're just lucky this isn't a spinal cord injury -- I could be paralyzed, you know."

"You were sitting up and rubbing your head," Buffy pointed out.

Xander made a face. "Oh, sure, be all reasonable." He sighed. "We'd better get back to the office and see if Edwards has dug up anything else."

The other three slayers had gathered around them. Sheila was rubbing her own elbow, which looked scraped raw to Xander's not-so-expert eye, but otherwise everyone seemed to be okay.

"You should get yourself checked out," Buffy said. "Make sure you don't have a concussion."

"Yeah, might be a good idea." Xander nodded at her and groaned at the pain. They quickly salvaged what they could from the scene, and then climbed into the Council van. Back at the Council building, Xander let himself be checked out by one of the nurses, and then slumped down on a chair in Edwards' office, wincing at the pain that shot through his shoulder. "Found anything?"

Edwards shook his head. "As far as we can tell, the demons are attracted to an energy source emanating from somewhere in London, but we can't pinpoint its location. It's most likely of magical origin, though it could be a witch, a warlock, or simply an activated magical artifact."

"Dawn?" Buffy frowned, leaning against the desk, with her arms crossed.

"No," Edwards immediately replied. "We've tested her, and she is definitely deactivated. Her energy hasn't been mystical since Glory was dispatched. She is simply a normal young woman, now."

Xander and Buffy both let out relieved sighs at that, and Xander smiled at her. "Well, no worries there, then. Can't we mojo up some locator spell or something?"

"Unfortunately, we've tried, but without success," Edwards said, putting his book down on the desk and sitting on the sofa. "Whatever it is that's creating this energy is too powerful for us to find with a simple locator spell. We'd have to know what, or who, we're looking for to have any chance of finding it."

"Unless we have someone more powerful than he, she, or it is," Xander countered, looking up at Edwards.

"Yes, but the only one we know who might have a chance to pull it off is Willow, and she's unreachable. I've left a message on her voice mail, but I doubt she'll get back to me on time."

"That's what happens when you send our best witch to look for some magical doo-hickey thingie in the middle of nowhere," Xander said, shifting on his chair and unable to find any comfortable positions.

"Why is it that the magical doo-hickeys are always in the middle of nowhere?" Buffy asked. "Do they not like civilization, or what?"

Edwards sighed and pretty much ignored her, which Xander had to admit was probably the right way to play it. When Buffy got into the wrong mood, it was kind of like having a conversation with a three year old, where every question you answered was just followed by 'Why?' "So, we just have to keep things under control until Will checks in, and then she X marks the spot and we take care of the problem." Put like that, it sounded simple; or it would have if Xander's head hadn't been throbbing.

"You should go home and get some rest," Edwards said sympathetically, looking at him.

"Nah, I'm okay," Xander said, even though being able to lie down sounded like heaven. A headache was small potatoes, though, compared to people losing their lives by demon attack, and he knew it. Perspective was one of those things you gained when you'd grown up in Sunnydale.

Buffy leaned forward and tapped her fingertips on the edge of the table. "I think we should put together some squads and patrol the city. You know, in a non-obvious way. We can keep in touch by cell phone, and that way when the demons strike, we'll have some slayers already nearby to deal with the situation."

"Excellent plan," Edwards said, favoring Buffy with an approving smile. "Xander, if you'd like to help organize the squads...?"

"Sure."

The rest of the afternoon was crazy-busy. By the time Xander headed home it was after six -- later than usual, but you couldn't really count on nine to five hours or a forty hour work week in their business, and the only reason he left when he did was because everyone kept insisting he was pale and didn't look right. His shoulder and head both ached as he unlocked his door and went inside.

A nice, long, hot shower later, Xander poured himself a glass of water, grabbed a couple of painkillers and the cordless phone, and lay down on the couch. He turned on the television, and started up the Stargate SG1 DVD already in the player. He glanced at the phone every few minutes, always shaking his head, and forcing himself to look away; he wasn't _waiting_ for Rupert's phone call because that would be desperate, and Xander was anything but desperate.

Oh, who was he kidding?

He knew he should probably eat something, but the pain was making him slightly nauseous and he hoped the painkillers would take care of that, at which point, he could order in, or warm up some of the leftover pizza in his fridge.

He was dozing off, the sound of the battle on TV muffled in his ears, when the phone rang, loud and clear. Xander blinked and rubbed his eyes, groaning when he turned too fast to the side to grab the phone. "Hello?"

"Xander? Hello, it's Rupert."

He sounded nervous, unsure, and that was kind of weird. Xander smiled at that, and tried to repress the pained moan as he sat up. The painkillers really weren't working fast enough. "Hey." He picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

"Hello."

They were silent for a moment, and then Xander laughed. "We're pathetic," he whispered.

"How so?"

"So nervous we can't even say 'how are you'?" Xander rubbed his shoulder, wincing, and laid back down. The pain really was more bearable when he was lying down on his back. "So -- how are you?"

Rupert chuckled at the other end. "Point taken. We are somewhat pathetic, as you say. And I'm quite all right. How are you?"

"I'm okay." It was sort of true, Xander thought, if you pretended they were just talking about his emotional state and not his physically bruised and battered self.

"And how was your day? At work?" Rupert sounded like he was working a little too hard to keep the conversation casual.

"Um... pretty much more of the same." Xander shifted to reach for his glass of water and had to choke back a groan as a spot just beside his shoulder blade protested the movement with a sharp pain.

"You don't sound all right," Rupert said, concerned.

Darn. Not that Xander didn't appreciate sympathy, but early on in a relationship -- or whatever this was -- wasn't the time, because it left you wondering if the other person just felt sorry for you instead of really liking you, or, worse, you found out the other person didn't deal with sick people well. Willow, much as Xander loved her, always ended up making him feel guilty for worrying her instead of comforted. "I had kind of an unfortunate meeting with a brick wall," he admitted. "I'm fine, though. Just a little bruised."

"You're sure? Have you seen a doctor?"

"Yeah," Xander lied. A nurse was almost a doctor. "They said I'm good." Rupert stayed silent, and Xander sighed quietly. "They said I'm concussion-free. Just bruised -- and even there, it's mostly my shoulder -- and my ego." He smiled. "I'll be fine in a day or two."

"If you're sure," Rupert said.

"Yeah, I am. I might not be able to participate in any sex olympics for a few days, but I'll be good as new soon." Xander bit his lip, and shook his head -- he really shouldn't have used the word 'sex' when talking with Rupert, because apparently, his body took it as an invitation, and it wasn't like Xander could actually do anything about it, since, you know, _pain_. And it was also stupid to mention sex olympics, because he had a very good idea that this wasn't all Rupert liked about him -- although it _was_ a deciding factor -- and he didn't want Rupert to think that was all Xander ever thought about.

"Xander --" Rupert started, and then stopped.

"What?"

"I was -- I was wondering if you'd like me to come over?" Rupert sounded concerned still, and Xander had to bite his lips to keep from answering the question too fast, before he could think.

Oh. God. Yes. Xander drew the line at thinking 'please'. "Oh -- if you want, sure." He tried to go for casual, but he knew he had failed completely when Rupert laughed.

"I'll take that as an 'as soon as possible', then."

"I was that obvious, hm?"

"Yes, you don't do 'disinterested' very well," Rupert said. "I'll admit I'm worried about you, and I wouldn't sleep well until I've made sure you're alright."

"So we can say I'm just humoring you." Xander closed his eyes, finally having found a semi-comfortable position, leaning slightly on his left side. He gave Rupert the directions to his apartment, and he was about to say 'see you later' when his stomach made itself known. "Can you pick up some Chinese on the way? I'll pay you back."

"Of course," Rupert said. "I'll be there shortly. Just take it easy until then." He hung up the phone before Xander could say anything else, which was probably just as well.

Xander was dozing again when he heard a knock on the door. Struggling to get to his feet without hurting himself more, he called, "Hang on!" and managed to force himself upright.

Rupert was holding two large paper bags, stapled over at the top, with the name of one of the better Chinese restaurants in the area printed on them. He took in Xander's wide eye and flushed. "I wasn't sure what you liked," he said. "So I thought it best to get an assortment. Here, let's get you off your feet. Where would you be most comfortable?"

"Flat on my back," Xander said. "But since that doesn't really go along with eating, on the couch is probably best."

A minute later he found himself sitting, Rupert tucking one pillow behind him and another next to him, helping to support his weight. Xander sighed with relief. "Wow, that's actually better. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Rupert leaned down and touched Xander's face gently, then straightened up. "Let me get you a plate and some utensils -- the plastic ones they give you are never any good."

"This is really nice of you," Xander said, when Rupert came back with the stuff and started taking containers out of the bags.

"Don't be silly," Rupert said. He frowned. "Sorry. You're not. Being silly, I mean. You're welcome; but I'm happy to do it. I would have worried about you all evening, knowing you were here alone, hurt."

"It wouldn't have been the first time," Xander said, which earned him a look. "No, I just mean... getting banged up is kind of part of the job description. I'm used to it."

"The being alone part, too, I'd imagine." Rupert took out two flat plastic containers. "Orange chicken, or beef with broccoli?"

"Both?" Xander suggested, his mouth watering at the scent of the food. "I think I kind of skipped lunch."

Rupert smiled, and opened both containers. He scooped chicken, and then beef, into the plate, and then reached for another container. "Rice?"

"Yes, please," Xander said, watching as Rupert scooped some rice and then closed the containers. "What else have you got?"

Rupert looked at the containers. "There's Wonton soup, Chow mein noodles, garlic spareribs, General Tso chicken, and I believe there should be some egg rolls somewhere as well."

"Wow. You sure you didn't buy the whole restaurant?"

Rupert laughed. "Yes, I'm quite certain. I did ask for a variety of their most popular dishes, so you'll probably have leftovers for a few days."

"Chinese leftovers are always a good thing. Toss me a egg roll too, for now." Xander nudged Rupert's leg with his foot, and smiled.

Rupert finally found the container with the egg rolls and then gave Xander the plate, with a fork. "Here, that should fill you up."

Xander laughed and shook his head. "Not nearly. I’ll take seconds when I’m done with this. I’m starving. Did they give you any sauce? Plum or cherry or something?"

"Duck?" Rupert offered, handing the small plastic container over. "Which is a name that doesn't bear too much thinking about, I find."

"Yeah, what's with that?" Xander asked. "It's not like they only give it to you if you order duck, right? Unless it's made out of ducks..." He pried off the tiny lid, which was already cracked, and frowned at the sauce.

"I warned you." Rupert got up again, taking Xander's glass with him, and came back a minute later with it refilled. "Here."

Xander chewed and swallowed before saying, "Thanks. This really was nice of you."

Rupert sat down next to him, careful not to jar the couch cushions. "You can stop saying that. I've already explained that I was doing it for me as much as for you."

"Well. It's nice of you to care." Xander licked his lips and looked at Rupert, letting himself enjoy the sight of him. The little smile lines around his eyes -- which were the most amazing color -- and around his lips, making him look extra kissable. If Xander hadn't been feeling, overall, pretty craptacular, he would have followed those thoughts with some of a more lecherous nature.

"I do," Rupert said gently, looking back at him steadily.

"What?" Xander asked, confused.

Rupert smiled. "Care."

"Oh." Xander looked down at his food, the plate now almost empty, and smiled softly. He took the last bite of his egg roll and then looked up again, meeting Rupert's eyes. "I -- I do, too," he whispered after he'd swallowed. "It's kind of scary, actually."

"Yes, I agree." Rupert picked up another container and opened it before offering it to Xander. "I think this is the General Tso."

"Thanks." Xander held up his plate, and waited until Giles had scooped some onto it. "It's hard to remember that we only met yesterday. Feels like I've known you for a lot longer than that."

"I know what you mean," Rupert said. He put the tops back on all the containers, and leaned back on the couch, watching Xander eat.

Xander blushed under his gaze, and for a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to have Rupert look at him like that again, and again, and again. He groaned, and tried to push the thought out of his mind, but the feeling that this meant more than they'd both bargained for stayed.

"Are you all right?"

The concerned look was back on Rupert's face and Xander shook his head. "I'm fine. It's just my brain that's crazy."

Rupert let out a short laugh, and took a sip of water. "How so?"

Xander felt his cheek flush more violently than before and he quickly finished his plate, thankful that he had an excuse to cover up the fact that he was trying to figure out what to say. "Nothing --" he ended up saying, around a mouthful of chicken, and then swallowed. "It's stupid, as always."

"Xander," Rupert said reproachfully, which made Xander feel like a seven year old who was being given a stern talking to. He glanced at Rupert and was surprised to see that the older man was looking at him with warmth and what might have been affection -- and okay, yeah, it _was_ affection, he knew that -- instead of the annoyance and frustration he'd somehow been expecting to see. "Whatever it is you're thinking, it's _not_ stupid. And neither are you."

He didn't know how to answer that. _Was_ there even an answer to that? "Um. Thanks," he said finally. When he leaned forward to set his plate down, his shoulder gave another sharp twinge and he flinched.

"I can see you've taken a shower," Rupert said, gesturing at his still-damp hair, "but have you considered a bath? A hot soak might be relaxing."

"That's a good idea, but my tub is a little bit lacking in the depth department," Xander said. "If it was my knee, that'd be one thing, but I'd have to twist myself into a pretzel to get my shoulder under water."

Rupert nodded. "Well..." It was weird for him to be hesitating, because he was the one who was all... experienced, and everything, but on the other hand it was also kind of reassuring, because it reminded Xander he wasn't the only one still trying to figure things out. "I could... if you thought it might help, I could give you a bit of a massage? I assure you the suggestion isn't an attempt to get you to take your shirt off -- although that would help."

Feeling immensely relieved on many levels, Xander smiled. "That'd be great."

"Perhaps we should move to your bedroom? You could lie down -- I expect it would be more comfortable for you." Rupert sounded unsure again, and Xander took the older man's hand in his before he could say more.

"That sounds good," Xander said. While the couch wasn't that uncomfortable, the bed was so much nicer, and Rupert wouldn't have to kneel on the floor either, which Xander figured was a mutual win-win situation. He thought quickly and, if his memory wasn't playing any trick on him, there shouldn't be any dirty laundry left on the bedroom floor. "Help me up?" he asked, when his attempt to sit up left him with a sharp pain shooting across his back.

Rupert grabbed Xander's arm, and then slipped his own around Xander's shoulders. "I suspect this won't be completely painless."

"Nah, but the reward will be worth the pain," Xander said, smiling, and pushing up to his feet with just a small pained groan. "Not too bad."

~ * ~ * ~

After helping Xander out of his shirt -- thus exposing the nasty bruise on his upper back, just below his shoulder -- Rupert helped Xander get settled as comfortably on the bed as possible. "Do you have muscle relaxant cream?" Rupert was not an expert masseur by any stretch of the imagination, but he'd always had a soft spot for a good massage. Of course, it usually was foreplay to him, and he'd have to make some conscious efforts to keep this strictly 'above the belt'. Although the pain on Xander's face was clue enough that Xander wouldn't be up for anything more tonight, which immediately put a damper on Rupert's own thoughts.

"I think I do -- in the bathroom, first or second drawer," Xander said, his head pillowed on his forearm.

Rupert rummaged through the messy drawers, finally coming up with a half empty tube of some American brand cream. He went back to the bedroom, taking a second to admire Xander's body on the bed, and then climbed in and knelt by Xander's side. "Let me know if this hurts more than it helps, all right?" he said, before squeezing some of the cream onto the bruised skin and starting to rub it in as gently as he could.

Xander groaned softly, stifling the sound with his forearm. It sounded like a combination of pain and pleasure, though, so Rupert kept at it, his touch light and cautious. At first Xander was tense, but gradually he began to relax, and after a while he said, "You're really good at that."

"Am I?" Rupert found himself absurdly pleased with the idea.

"Yeah. It should be your new career -- massage therapist to idiots with dangerous jobs." Xander turned his head a little and smiled. "Not that you aren't great at your current one. Um, career. You know."

Rupert laughed, and smiled back. "Yes, but since I'm retired now, it might be a good time to think about a change in careers. Massage therapist might be something to consider. Although, I would not qualify you as an idiot -- dangerous job, granted, but an idiot? Not by far." What he didn't say was that he'd quite like the idea of doing this again. And perhaps again. He wasn't sure yet what to think of Xander's ties to the Council, but what he knew was that he wasn't going to let that detail come in the way of enjoying Xander's company.

"I'd been meaning to ask," he said, for once unsure whether he should truly try to satisfy his curiosity or not. "Not that I want to stir up a conversation about your work, per se, but -- I'm quite curious as to how there's now more than one slayer?"

Xander looked at him, eye dazed and unfocused. "You want me to think now?"

Rupert stopped his hands momentarily, and then started massaging the muscles again. "No -- actually, I quite like how relaxed this is making you."

"Relaxed is an understatement," Xander mumbled. "More like melted. I'll never be able to stand up again. Even my bones are mush."

"I had no idea this was where my true talents lay," Rupert said. He concentrated on doing what he could to relax Xander further, nearly forgetting that Xander hadn't answered his previous question until the younger man shifted slightly and spoke.

"There was a spell," Xander said, softly but clearly. "It kind of... spread the Slayer wealth." 

"On purpose? Or accidentally?" Rupert asked, telling himself he wasn't interested even as he knew that was a lie.

"Oh, on purpose. There was this apocalypse thing." Xander sighed. "I'm probably not supposed to be telling you this."

Rupert moved his hands lower, massaging the muscles of Xander's lower back. "Probably not, if Council policy hasn't changed in twenty-five years." He sighed. "I'm sorry, my curiosity is getting the better of me."

Xander turned his head and smiled at him. "The Council _has_ changed, you know. Since Edwards' been in charge, things have been -- different." Xander's words were slurred at the end, and Rupert stopped his hands. "Hey, no stopping."

Rupert laughed. "I wish my thumbs weren't so old. They're quite sore at the moment. Just give me a couple of minutes to let them rest."

"Okay, I guess that's a good excuse." Xander shifted on his side, and Rupert was once again struck by how beautiful he was. He couldn't look away. "What?"

"Pardon?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Rupert trailed a hand down Xander's side, and then lay down beside him, his fingers gently digging into the flesh of Xander's hip. Without thinking, he moved closer and kissed Xander, lips pressing into the soft ones beneath his. He'd been wanting to do this since he'd arrived, wondering if Xander's lips would be as soft and strong as he'd remembered them. Xander responded to the kiss almost immediately, but without urgency. This wasn't about seduction. Perhaps that was why Rupert's heart was beating so heavily in his chest.

After long moments of gentle kissing, Xander sighed. "I really wish I didn't feel like I'd gone one round with whoever a famous boxer is," he said.

Rupert smiled and traced Xander's ear with a fingertip. "One round?"

"Well, yeah, because he obviously wouldn't need more than that to beat me," Xander explained. He still had that light tone, but Rupert knew now that it was an affectation, nothing more.

"Here, let's see if we can't get you more comfortable." Rupert rolled onto his back and tugged at Xander until the younger man was settled with his head on Rupert's shoulder. "There. How's that?"

"Good. Really good."

It was surprisingly domestic -- more surprising, it felt nice rather than stifling. Rupert ran his fingers through Xander's hair. "We could talk," he suggested. "Unless your head hurts too much?"

"Not too much for talking," Xander said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm not quite sure, exactly," Rupert said, trying to think of a subject that wouldn't seem either too personal, or too trivial. His intense curiosity was pushing him to ask about the Council again, but he found himself reluctant to give in, and not simply because Council policy forbade Xander from giving him many details.

Xander wrapped an arm around Rupert's torso and let out a soft chuckle, his breath tickling the skin on Rupert's neck. "You want to know how my shoulder and the brick wall became real good friends?"

Rupert let his hand trail down Xander's arm, and then linked their fingers together. Perhaps it would be best if Rupert knew as little as possible about Xander's job; he worried easily. But knowing would prevent him from imagining the worst. "Yes, if you wish to talk about it."

"You know those demons from this morning?" When Rupert nodded, Xander continued: "We hunted them all over the city today. We were fighting a group of them down a few blocks out of Notting Hill, and I guess I need to work on my reflexes, because I got slammed against the wall."

Rupert frowned, letting go of Xander's hand to touch his shoulder. "They're all over the city, you say? Isn't that unusual?"

"Very. They usually leave London alone, mostly because of the Council's presence, I think. They figure that being here is suicidal or something."

Rupert remembered well how the Council acquired demons for training, and suicide seemed to be the appropriate word choice. "Do you have an idea what could be luring them here?"

"I don't know," Xander said. "Some kind of magical doohickey? Isn't there always a magical doohickey?"

"Sometimes," Rupert agreed, thinking. "Sometimes not. There could be all sorts of things -- impending apocalypse, an unusual alignment of planets, some misguided soul gathering forces in preparation for starting a war..."

Xander sighed. "Right."

"I'm sorry." Rupert felt genuinely apologetic for having told Xander what he most certainly already knew, when he'd had a bad enough day already. "I'll stop talking, shall I?'

Shaking his head, Xander tightened his arm around Rupert's waist for a moment. "It's okay. The occasional foray into reality is probably a good idea."

"But not when you aren't feeling well," Rupert said.

"No, really, it's okay." Xander pushed himself up onto his elbow. "Actually, Edwards said one of the things you did -- well, without the gathering forces part. That maybe it's a witch or a warlock."

"A witch or warlock using enough power to draw demons to it... that would be possible, I'd think," Rupert said, shaking his head at how easy it was to get back into this frame of mind. He'd tried so hard, over the years, to forget about what he thought of as his father's world; perhaps he'd tried too hard. His collection of magical artifacts was proof that Rupert hadn't completely managed to pull himself away from it. "I'm sure the Council has the resources needed to find it?"

"No," Xander said, and Rupert frowned at that.

"How so?"

"When the previous version of the Council was destroyed, they lost a lot of resources and personnel, so we don't have everything we need on hand anymore. And whoever or whatever's the source of the power is shielded or something like that? I'm not sure what it's called, just -- an ordinary witch can't see them. Or it." Xander sighed against Rupert's shoulder. "We have one witch on the payroll who could probably get through the shield, but we can't reach her, and won't be able to for a while."

Rupert let his fingers drift across Xander's arm again, feeling the young man shiver against him. "I guess that would present a problem." If what Rupert remembered was correct, the shield used would be a protection spell of some kind, either against intruders who might disrupt the spell or to keep the caster from being discovered.

"Yeah," Xander said, his voice soft and muffled, leaving Rupert wondering if he was falling asleep. He looked down and found Xander's eyes closed. "So right now, all we can do is keep fighting them off."

"Right now, you need to get some rest," Rupert said gently.

"Mmhm." Xander was quiet again, then asked, "Could you stay?"

Rupert smiled. "If you'd like me to, certainly. Do you need anything? A glass of water?"

"No," Xander said, shaking his head a bit. "Oh, well... I didn't brush my teeth." He kissed Rupert's clothed shoulder, then got up reluctantly, groaning. Rupert sat up, and it wasn't until Xander reached the doorway that he paused. "Um... you don't really have to. I mean, if you don't want to."

"I'd love to stay," Rupert replied, smiling and keeping his voice soft. Xander smiled back, ducking his head before he left the room.

Rupert stood and shrugged off his shirt quickly, folding it and putting it on the nearby chair. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his socks, and his pants, keeping only his undershirt and his boxer shorts. He sat up against the headboard, and pulled the sheet up to his hips.

It took Xander just a few minutes, and then he was back. Rupert watched Xander take off his pants with a pained grimace on his face. "Here," Rupert said, laying his head on the pillow. "Let's see if we can make you comfortable again."

Xander nodded and climbed into the bed, his movements slow and obviously painful. "Have I mentioned how much I hate brick walls?"

Rupert chuckled and tugged Xander closer until his head was laying on Rupert's shoulder once more. "You have, I believe. Or if you haven't, it was still clear how much you loathe them."

"Thank you," Xander said, sighing. "For humoring me, and for this."

"You are quite welcome." Rupert couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this content with someone, let alone someone whom he'd known for barely twenty-four hours. And yet he realized, with a bit of surprise, that he really wouldn't rather be anywhere else but here. "Good night, Xander."

"G'night," Xander murmured; his breathing evened out moments later, his body warm and relaxed against Rupert's.

Eventually, Rupert fell asleep, too.

~ * ~ * ~

When Xander woke up, he felt better. Not a hundred percent, not by a long shot, but the headache was gone and his shoulder felt only twingey instead of like he'd been hit by a bus.

Of course, the fact that Rupert Giles was snuggled up behind him, one arm around his waist, breath warm against the back of Xander's neck, probably helped. Xander smiled and shut his eye again, deciding that after the day he'd had yesterday, he was more than entitled to at least another half hour of cuddling.

Rupert muttered something, but it sounded like he was still sleeping.

"Are you awake?" Xander whispered.

A soft grumble, then Rupert's arm tightened around him and the other man snuggled closer.

Xander sighed and smiled. "I'll take that as a no," he murmured, covering Rupert's hand with his own. He lay there for a while, just listening to Rupert breathe steadily behind him. He couldn't remember the last time waking up had felt this... nice. It was quiet and soothing, and Xander could almost forget about the demons he had to get up to fight. He probably would have succeeded in pushing them out of his mind completely if the phone hadn't chosen that moment to start ringing.

Rupert jumped at the sound, and Xander laughed softly as he untangled himself from Rupert's embrace. The older man was rubbing his eyes and groaned sleepily when Xander reached over him to grab the phone on the nightstand, and then decided that Rupert's stomach was comfortable enough to stay right where he was. "Yeah?"

"Hello, Xander, it's Edwards." He sounded tired, really tired, and Xander wondered for a second if the man had slept at all. "I'm not waking you up, am I?"

"No, but you did catch me in a compromising position," Xander said, trying to make Edwards laugh, and smiling at Rupert at the same time. "What's up?"

Edwards sighed. "Xander, when -- when this is done, I think you and I should talk." He had his concerned tone, the one Xander hated the most, because it meant a lecture of some kind. Xander really didn't want to be lectured right now, or, you know, ever again.

"Look," Xander said, groaning as he sat up and looked away from Rupert. "I know what I'm doing, okay? I'm twenty-three years old, not sixteen. Don't patronize me." He paused for a moment, and then continued before Edwards could say anything else. "I know you didn't call to discuss my choice of bedfellow, so let's just talk about whatever it is." Xander hated, seriously hated, that he was annoyed with Edwards right now. The man had done a lot for them over the years, and he was like a father to Xander, and pretty much all of them. But Xander was a grown up, had been for more years than he cared to count, and Edwards really ought to know that.

"I'm sorry, Xander, of course you know what you're doing, and _you_ aren't the one I'm worried about. Actually, come to think of it, Rupert might be of some help, if he's willing," Edwards said, slightly apologetic. Xander heard him take a deep breath, and then let it out. "We've found that the demons we've been fighting are from a clan who worships Chaos. This could be a clue as to the nature of the power source we are looking for. They don't usually come out of their hiding ground unless Chaos is somehow involved."

"That's good news, right? Means we might be able to find who's worshiping Chaos faster, right, since we have an idea what we're looking for now?"

"I'm not sure, Xander, but it might. I have to go, Buffy's here and I should brief her as well. I'll see you at the office later."

"Sure thing," Xander said, and he hung up. He turned to Rupert again, wincing only a little, the pain a dull ache at the back of his shoulder.

"You're still hurting," Rupert said sympathetically. "Perhaps a hot shower would relax you?"

"Mm," Xander said, abandoning the idea of getting up right then and settling down instead, trying to get comfortable. "Only showering pretty much requires standing up, and that sounds like way too much effort."

Rupert rubbed his shoulder a little bit. "It's a pity you can't have the day off."

"It really is." Xander snuggled closer, happy to have someone warm to cuddle up against.

It was quiet for a minute, then Rupert said, hesitantly, "Don't feel you have to answer, but... you were talking about Chaos?"

"It's okay," Xander said. He wanted to raise his head and look at Rupert -- partially just because he liked looking at him -- but decided not to because he figured feeling this comfortable was going to be a rare thing that day. "Anyway, Edwards said maybe you could help. Um, not in a physical sense necessarily, but if you had any ideas?"

Rupert nodded. “I might, if you explain what the situation is? I know the demons are attracted to a power source in the city, but what has that to do with Chaos?"

“Edwards said the demons are worshipers of Chaos and the only reason they’re coming out is because the power source is somehow related to it or something." Xander tightened his hold on Rupert, and sighed. “Why does Edwards think you can help?" he asked before he could stop himself. He was curious, he couldn’t help it. Despite the fact that he came from a family of watchers, Rupert seemed pretty normal to Xander, not the kind who would know about Chaos and its worshipers.

“I -- let's just say I did things in my youth that I’m not particularly proud of. I had no idea it was common knowledge with the Council, although my father probably had to give a reason for my failure to return home, and he’s always liked to humiliate me," Rupert said, his hand slowly rubbing circles on Xander’s back. Xander didn’t reply to that, and Rupert continued. “I mingled with a number of magic users who summoned demons for the thrill."

“Oh," Xander whispered, surprised. “So you’re a warlock?"

Rupert shook his head, laughing softly. “No, my power is not nearly strong enough that I can claim to be one. I do have some power, though I haven’t used it in decades now."

Xander remembered the artifact collection he’d seen briefly in Giles’ apartment the other night, and it made sense now. “So -- I guess you came across Chaos worshipers or something? Edwards really seemed to think you could help."

“I did, yes," Rupert answered, softly. “One in particular."

For a moment, Xander didn't say anything. Then, gently, "I'm listening."

The look on Rupert's face had been kind of far away, like he was remembering something from years ago, but it softened as he came back and met Xander's gaze. "You're really astonishingly mature, you know."

"My friends would say otherwise," Xander said, grinning. "And if that's your way of trying to wriggle out of the conversation, it's okay. You can just say so. You don't owe us anything."

Rupert shook his head. "No," he said. "It's not that. I suppose I'd thought it all behind me now. It's rather surprising to find that it might not be."

Hesitantly, Xander stroked his hand along Rupert's side, making sure not to do it so lightly that it would tickle. "So... who was it? The Chaos guy, I mean."

"What makes you think it was a guy?" Rupert asked, his lips quirked into something not quite a smile. "Yes, yes, of course it was. His name was Ethan Rayne. He and I... and some friends of ours... got in a bit over our heads for a time. Experimenting with magic, delving into areas best left alone."

Xander nodded thoughtfully, trying not to push Rupert for more details, even though he was really curious. "You lost touch with him?" he asked, instead of the other dozen of questions in his head. He kissed Rupert's jaw, relishing the feel of the stubble underneath his lips.

"I did," Rupert answered. He leaned his head to the side, giving Xander access to his neck, which Xander immediately took advantage of. "We went our separate ways the day I was offered that contract, and I never saw him again. We -- we argued that morning, and by the time I got home after the show, he'd cleared up his things and was gone." The look on Rupert's face had turned wistful again, and his hand stilled on Xander's back. "Of course, it hadn't been our first fight, so it's not like I hadn't been expecting it..."

"Still stings," Xander finished for him, his mouth trailing kisses on the skin of Rupert's neck. "So you guys were together?"

Rupert nodded. "I heard from a mutual friend, a few years later, that Ethan had got deeper and deeper into black magic, and had taken to worshiping Chaos regularly. He'd always liked the idea of Chaos, and that news did not surprise me in the least."

Xander stopped and pulled back, looking into Rupert's eyes with a slight frown on his face. "Think he could be our guy?"

Rupert cupped Xander's cheek and rubbed his thumb on the skin. "He might be. It would be just the kind of mischief he would be into."

"Still can't locate him though..."

"He is rather powerful. I've never seen anyone as powerful as he was back when I knew him, and I expect he's improved over the years." Rupert sighed, and pulled Xander down for a soft kiss. "I don't know how I could help in this instance, however, as I suspect he's moved on from the old haunts we used to frequent."

Xander leaned his head down on Rupert's shoulder again. "I have no idea at this point... but I bet Edwards has an idea. He always does."

"I'll help," Rupert promised. His hand came up and cradled Xander's head, big and strong and more than a little bit weathered, and somehow that was sexier -- turned Xander on more -- than the kissing and stroking of bare skin they'd been doing throughout their conversation. "If I can."

"Thanks." Xander still ached because of yesterday, both his shoulder and his head, but not in the same way. Plus he liked to think he was young enough that it didn't matter, and if the way his dick was slowly hardening against Rupert's knee meant anything, it didn't. He slid his lower lip wetly over the thin skin at Rupert's collar bone and felt the other man shiver. "And thanks for last night. Bringing me dinner, and the massage. And for staying."

"I was glad to do it," Rupert said. Xander traced his fingertips along Rupert's thigh, listening to the way Rupert's breathing sounded. "I thought you had to go to work?"

"Mm," Xander said, mouthing at Rupert's nipple. He licked, then bit at it lightly; it tightened, and Rupert inhaled softly. "I do. Eventually." He slid his hand higher, brushing the underside of Rupert's balls. "You could come with me."

Quickly, but carefully, Rupert shifted up onto one elbow, looking down at Xander with desire in his eyes. "Oh, believe me, I intend to," he said, and curled his hand around Xander's erection, making him gasp.

"God!" Xander groaned and thrust into Rupert's fist. He cupped the back of Rupert's neck and pulled him closer for a kiss. "Want you," he whispered, ignoring the pain in his shoulder in favor of kissing his way down to Rupert's neck again. He kissed and sucked at the skin, relishing every gasp and moan that Rupert made.

Rupert let go of Xander's cock, making Xander whimper in protest, and pushed him down on the bed, settling between his legs. "This should be less strenuous for your shoulder," Rupert whispered, capturing Xander's lips for another long kiss.

With a soft sigh that quickly turned into a moan, Xander spread his legs and pulled the older man down. He thrust up his hips, and shuddered when his hard cock slid against Rupert's. "I want you to fuck me," he groaned, his breath tickling Rupert's lips.

"Oh, dear God," Rupert gasped. "I was hoping you'd say that." He moved his hips against Xander's for a moment longer, and then stopped, panting. "Supplies?"

"First drawer," Xander answered, pointing to the nightstand. His whole body was shivering with want, and he reached between his legs, the pull too strong to stop, and fisted his cock. "Fuck, hurry, please?"

He heard the drawer opening and closing, and then the sound of the foil packet being ripped open, and Xander had to look. Rupert was sitting on his heels and rolling on the condom, looking hotter than anyone Xander had ever met. Throat dry, Xander shook his head to clear his thoughts at least long enough to reach for the lube and squirt some onto his fingers.

Eyes fixed on Rupert, Xander reached between his legs, despite the throbbing in his shoulder, and pushed his fingers inside. One, two, three fingers, fast and hard, and then he leaned down on the bed again, pulling a panting and wide eyed Rupert back over him. "Now, please."

"Christ," Rupert said, gasping. "If you keep looking like that I'm going to come before I even get inside you."

Xander laughed, a little bit desperately, and tried taking a couple of deep breaths, but it wasn't easy. "Looking like what?"

"The way you do." Rupert -- Rupert Giles, who was about to fuck Xander in Xander's own bed, and okay, Xander couldn't think about that anymore because if he did _he_ was going to come, and he didn't want to do that, or at least not yet -- held his weight up on an elbow and reached down between them, fingertips sliding over Xander's slick and ohmyGod sensitive entrance. "You're the most incredible thing I've ever seen. Your mouth..." He leaned down, cock pressed hard to Xander's thigh, and kissed him.

"Please," Xander begged against Rupert's lips.

"Hush," Rupert told him, guiding the head of his dick to where Xander needed it. He pressed in slowly, so slowly that there was nothing Xander could do but gasp, open-mouthed, and shake like he couldn't ever remember shaking before. "There," Rupert said, a little deeper now. "Is that what you wanted?"

It was entirely possible that this was going to kill Xander. He wanted to say something clever, or something really hot, but all he could do was pant for air, his balls so tight they hurt and his skin feeling like it was going to split open.

Rupert pulled back, and Xander whined, clenching his muscles and trying to keep him in, but then Rupert was thrusting in again, still just as slow, going slightly deeper. "You -- dear God," Rupert gasped. "You should see just how hot you look."

"Pretty --" Xander choked and cried out when Rupert pushed in again. "God! Pretty nice from my -- fuck! -- my point of view, too," he finally managed, eye locked on Rupert's face, cheeks warm. He was clutching at Rupert's shoulders, his legs wrapped around Rupert's torso. "God, please --"

Rupert pulled back again, and then thrust in, hard and deep, and Xander threw his head back and arched his body towards him, gasping. "Is that what you need?" Rupert asked, his breathing hoarse and shallow.

"Yes, fuck yes, please," Xander groaned, crying out again at Rupert's next thrust. "You're -- God -- you're good at this, damn."

Rupert gave a breathless laugh and cupped Xander's cheek. Smiling, he bent down and kissed him hard, his tongue slipping inside the moment Xander opened his mouth to moan. Rupert's hard, deep thrusts barely faltered as they kissed, and Xander clung to his neck, his skin tingling every where Rupert was touching him.

Xander's cock was throbbing, rubbing against Rupert's stomach, hard and leaking and heavy. "Fuck," Xander gasped into the kiss, peeling one hand from the back of Rupert's neck and bringing it down, between their bodies. He fisted his cock and moaned, stroking it in time with Rupert's thrusts.

It felt like Xander had slipped into some weird kind of alternate universe where his skin was incredibly sensitive. He was shaking and he couldn't get enough air, but he couldn't come, either. Not that he was complaining -- he felt so good he didn't really _want_ to come. He wanted this perfection to last forever, or as close to it as possible.

Every stroke of Rupert's cock inside him made Xander groan. There was no part of him that was in control of this situation, but it was so amazing that he didn't care.

He realized he was gasping something when he could, words that didn't even make any sense at first. "Don't stop," he was saying. "God, please don't stop." He was so close, shivering with need. "Love this, love --"

Oh God, oh God! No, Xander hadn't just told Rupert that, he couldn't have, because -- he just couldn't. He had never said it during sex before, not even with Anya. He'd say it before, he'd say it after, but never during, ever. And this was insane, because Rupert wasn't -- Xander had only known him two days! And not even that long, and he was already driving Xander crazy and --

God! "Please, fuck, do that again!" Xander gasped. Rupert had changed the angle or something, because it was even better now. "Oh yeah, like that, please."

He wasn't falling in love with Rupert Giles. He couldn't; it was too insane to happen. Two days weren't enough to fall in love with someone, Xander knew that, and never mind that he'd had a lifetime of fantasies, that didn't count right now, because Rupert was so very different from everything Xander could ever have imagined.

Except he'd almost said it, and his heart was thumping in his chest, and not just from the sex either. And --

He stopped thinking, moved his hand faster on his cock, arched his back, and came with a cry. He came hard, his head spinning, and his body trembling when he could finally breathe again. "Oh God." He blinked.

Grinning, Rupert bent down slightly over him and brushed his lips over Xander's gently, teasingly, before trailing kisses down Xander's jaw to his ear. "You are so bloody gorgeous when you come," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down Xander's spine, and then he pulled out and thrust in again.

"Your turn," Xnader said, breathless.

Rupert chuckled, and pulled Xander's legs over his shoulders. "I certainly hope so."

"God, yes," Xander moaned, fingers gripping at Rupert's forearm. "Wanna feel you come, Rupert, please."

"As if... I've any choice in the matter," Rupert said.

He sure as heck seemed to, though -- he kept going, like the porn version of the Energizer bunny, fucking Xander steadily and with a determined look on his face until the pressure across Xander's prostate made him groan in hopeless lust. There was no way in _hell_ Xander was going to get hard again, but he _wanted_ to.

"Now," Rupert gasped suddenly, his grip on Xander's ass tightening like he had no control over what his hands were doing, and that determination fractured and broke, spilling into Xander in a series of hot, slick pulses. The look on Rupert's face was so incredible that Xander had to close his eye, burning it into his memory.

The loss of connection when Rupert moved away was almost painful, but he lay down beside Xander and kissed him, held him, and that made up for it. "You're seriously in danger of killing me, here," Xander whispered.

"That's definitely not my intention," Rupert said. "I'm not even close to done with you yet." It was the kind of thing that might have made Xander feel insecure, but was said in such a warm voice that it didn't do anything but make him grin.

~ * ~ * ~

Rupert pulled Xander even closer, kissing him softly again, and sighed. "Perhaps we should shower. Edwards will be waiting for us, I imagine."

"Yeah, he probably will."

Xander wasn't moving, though, and Rupert smiled, his fingers playing with the soft hair at the base of Xander's skull. There was something really peaceful about holding the young man close, and Rupert could not remember ever feeling this content with any of his other lovers. Perhaps he was simply becoming soft with old age. Not that he was all that old quite yet.

He had no idea what kind of repercussions helping the Council would have, but a small part of him was glad to still be of some use. Rupert's life had been filled with concert and fame, travelling from place to place, meeting with fans, but while he had loved the attention, and the lifestyle it had provided, now it felt hollow, empty. A fleeting moment in time, and the idea that he might be of some use thrilled him more than he would have believed it could.

"Come on," Xander whispered, drawing Rupert away from his thoughts, and pulling away slightly. "Let's shower and get ready. The faster we're done with this, the faster --"

"The faster we can be back here," Rupert finished for him, understanding very well what Xander was feeling, because he felt it, too. He wanted more than stolen moments, and it terrified him.

This was definitely more than a simple, no strings attached, one-night stand.

They managed a quick shower and got dressed, Rupert wincing a bit when he put back on the same clothes he'd worn the day before. He was more than a bit spoiled, he knew, although these days he rarely had the opportunity to be reminded. Still, it made him feel rather young again, and by the time he and Xander got into his car, Rupert was remarkably cheerful.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Xander asked. "The whole Council thing, I mean?"

"Of course," Rupert said. "I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."

Xander glanced at him. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one that suggested it."

"Oh. Well, yes, I suppose you did. But yes, I'm fine with it. I'd like to help, if I can."

"Sounded to me like you might be able to," Xander said as Rupert pulled the car out onto the street. "If there's a chance this Ethan guy is the one causing all the trouble..."

"I can't say for certain, but it's definitely the sort of thing he might do." Rupert could remember with shocking vividness the look on Ethan's face when he'd been in the midst of some Chaos spell or another -- the wildness in his eyes, the wide, wicked smile.

"The question is, how the hell are we going to find him even if it _is_ him?" Xander said.

"There are ways," Rupert said.

"Like what?" Xander asked.

Rupert could see him looking his way in the corner of his eyes. "Magically, any object that Ethan -- or anyone -- has touched keeps an imprint of him. It helps to focus locator spells."

"Wow," Xander said, smiling. "I guess you do know your stuff."

"Theoretically, yes, I've always had a good memory, and I've -- well, this might come as quite a shock, coming from a rock star, but I've always liked to read. Demonology, myths, folklore, magicks, I've got quite a library at home." He'd tried his best to stay away, cut all ties with the past, but he'd always had an interest for these subjects, and after a while he'd simply given in. It apparently paid off in the end. "But practically, I'm not sure I'd be able to cast the simplest spell, anymore."

"I'm sure you could."

It was said with such fervour and certainty that Rupert couldn't help a glance Xander's way. "What makes you so sure?"

"I don't know," Xander said, a slight blush covering his cheeks. Rupert looked back at the road. "I just -- I have faith in you. For some reason."

"Well, my suspicions are true, then; you are quite insane." Rupert laughed, and was delighted to hear Xander's laughter joins his. "Truthfully, I'm not sure I would -- like to touch this kind of power again. It was maddening."

"You mean in the crazy-making way," Xander said. "I still don't get how crazy in British turned into pissed off in American."

"Really?" Rupert asked mildly. "It makes sense to me."

"Or maybe I just don't want to think about it." Xander's fingers plucked at the knee of his slacks and he was quiet for the next six blocks, until Rupert reached over hesitantly and touched his hand.

"For someone who doesn't want to think about it, you seem to be doing a lot of thinking," Rupert said.

Xander turned his hand so that his fingers tangled with Rupert's, but was silent long enough that Rupert wondered if he shouldn't have said anything. Eventually, though, he said, "Crazy-mad is something I'm a little too familiar with." He sounded a bit hollow.

"We don't need to talk about it if you don't want to," Rupert said.

"Maybe now wouldn't be the best time," Xander agreed. They were nearly to the Council building. "But we probably should. I mean, if... yeah. You should know." He glanced at Rupert. "I want you to know."

Rupert looked at him, and then back at the road, mouth suddenly dry. "I -- I'm flattered," he said softly. "Perhaps once this situation has been taken care of?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

Rupert slowed the car down in front of the building, and quickly found a parking space. He was nervous. His hands were trembling slightly as he unbuckled his belt. He had never wanted to come back. There had been moments when the thought had crossed his mind, but mostly, he'd been done with the Council, and had lived his life away from them without remorse.

He had been happy, for a while, touring, singing, meeting celebrities and being one himself. But always there, at the back of his mind, the question of how his life would have been different if... and now he was about to find out.

One look at Xander though, just one look, and he smiled. It would be worth it. He had known the young man for two days, and already Xander was changing his life, and Rupert didn't know why, but he liked it. All it took was a look, and he was walking into the building, his head held high. He was Rupert Giles, and Rupert Giles was not intimidated by the people and life he had walked away from as a teenager. He was ready.

"Edward's office is on the second floor," Xander said, walking to the stairs. "It's not worth getting the elevator."

"All right."

They climbed the stairs quickly, and Edwards was waiting for them in the doorway of his office. He took one look at Rupert, and then told his secretary -- a woman in her late thirties who was gaping at Rupert -- that he was not to be disturbed, and then waved them in.

Rupert followed Xander's example and sat in one of the four chairs set around a small coffee table; another chair was already occupied by the young woman Rupert had met the day before; Buffy, was it? Xander greeted her, and then Edwards sat in the last chair. "Sorry to be bothering you with this," he said, looking at Rupert. "You are probably busy with --" he waved as if to say 'everything'.

Rupert laughed. "Quite the contrary. Haven't you heard? I'm retired now. Too old to rock anymore."

"I always admired you, Rupert," Edwards said, looking down at the floor. "For years, my father would tell me 'I hope you will never turn into what that Giles boy turned into, what a disgrace', and all I could think was that I wished I had your courage. It's a hard life." He sighed. "The first time I gathered enough strength to defy my father was when I got assigned to Buffy, here. She was -- quite extraordinary, and so different from what our training led us to believe a slayer should be."

"Hey," Buffy said, smiling. "I kinda liked my independence. Still do."

Xander laughed and Edwards smiled at that. "Yes, of course you do," Edwards said. He shook his head at her, and then turned back to Rupert. "We need your help. From the rumours I heard back then, I know you were tight with a Chaos worshipper."

Rupert nodded, still a bit stunned by Edwards' confession, and the subsequent display of affection between all of them. It felt a bit like voyeurism, when what you were peering at was an especially tight knitted family. "Of course," he finally managed to say. "Xander has explained the situation as best as he could. The demons you've been fighting are followers of Chaos."

"Yes, and we have reason to believe that the source of the power is directly linked to Chaos as well, but we have no idea what it can be."

"But you suspect it might be Ethan," Rupert said, then realized Buffy and Edwards were looking at him in confusion. "My old friend. His name is Ethan Rayne."

Edwards nodded. "Yes, Rayne, the name sounds familiar. I couldn't remember it."

"Rupert said something on the way here," Xander said, joining in the conversation. "About being able to focus a locator spell by using an object..."

"Yes, something that is of value to him, or that he's touched recently."

Edwards frowned. "Do you have such an object in your possession?" he asked Rupert, and then glanced at Xander.

"Not with me, no," Rupert answered. He truly wanted to touch Xander right now, perhaps his hand, or his arm, simply to put a claim on him in front of Edwards, who despite his earlier confession, still didn't seem to accept how close they were sitting. "But I might have something of his somewhere at home."

"In that case, it would be helpful if you could retrieve any items as soon as possible," Edwards said.

"Like, now," Buffy added, and when Xander gave her a look, she said, "There've been eight attacks since last night. We need to get a handle on this situation _now_. We don't have time to mess around doing stuff by the book." She pointed a finger at Edwards. "I'm serious about this. No weird protocol crap on this one. If there's any lingering animosity or whatever between the two of you, I expect you to suppress it just like the British have been doing for years. Do I make myself clear?" She looked at Rupert.

Startled, he nodded. "Absolutely." He smiled at Edwards, who was clearly trying to hide his own smile. "I see what you mean."

"Yes," Edwards said. "Extraordinary."

"So go," Buffy said, waving her hand at Rupert. "Go on. Shoo."

"Shoo?" Xander said, grinning.

"You know what I mean," Buffy said.

"Yeah, I do." Xander stood up. "I take it I'm clear to go with him? He shouldn't go alone when there's something like this going on."

"Yes, of course," Edwards said, looking none too happy about it. "I'd have rather you stayed here, but you have a point."

"No, he doesn't," Buffy said, looking at Xander carefully, and standing up. "I'll go."

"Pardon?" Rupert frowned, and then looked at Xander, too. And noticed the wince when Xander shifted on his seat.

"Your back still hurts?" Buffy asked Xander, and he shook his head, but Rupert could see he was lying. "Whatever. You're staying here. Edwards has got some of the really good painkillers, take some, and try to lie down somewhere. We'll need you at full strength later."

Rupert watched the exchange between the two and couldn't help the smile that spread when Xander, without a word, slumped slightly in his chair and nodded. Rupert was a little disappointed in having to go without Xander, but if the young man was still hurting, there was no way he should be moving about, acting as bodyguard. Not that Rupert didn't still know how to fight, but he was rusty, and if more than one demon attacked him, there was no way he would make it back here. "She's right, Xander, you should rest."

"Yeah, I know."

Buffy patted Xander's arm. "There, there, I'll take really good care of your -- whatever he is, I promise." She smiled sweetly at him, and he laughed.

"Whatever. Just make sure he doesn't get killed." Xander shot Rupert an apologetic smile. "She doesn't bite... too hard."

Rupert chuckled. "I'm sure," he said as he stood. "We'll be back in about an hour, unless traffic holds us up."

"All right. I'll have everything ready for the spell then," Edwards said, nodding. "Go on, and hurry."

"Yes, Boss," Buffy said. She grabbed Rupert's arm and pulled him towards the door. "This'll give me the chance to get to know you. I always wanted to meet a rock star."

"You don't even know who he is!" Xander called from behind them.

Buffy huffed. "Who cares? He's still a rock star."

Rupert looked at her incredulously, and then laughed. "All right, then. I have a feeling this will be an interesting ride."

"Oh, you can count on it."

~ * ~ * ~

Xander pretty much followed Dr. Buffy's orders -- he accepted one of Edwards' pills and went to lie down in the room with the comfy couch. It was supposed to be a meeting room, and they did use it for that sometimes, but most of the time it was a convenient place for people to catch a quick cat-nap or to stretch out when they were being doctored from one injury or another. The painkiller -- or maybe it was a muscle relaxant -- ended up making him a little woozy, and he drowsed off and on for the next hour and a half or so, occasionally waking enough to catch bits of conversation in the hallway outside.

He'd really drifted off when there was a gentle knock at the door.

"Xander?" Buffy peered in. "Hey. Just wanted to let you know that we're back, safe and sound." She pushed the door open a little more and Xander could see Rupert standing behind her. "Not a scratch on him."

"Mm. Good." Xander didn't try to sit up.

"So. Do you want to --?" Buffy sounded uncertain.

Xander nodded. "Yeah. I'll be right there. Just give me a second." He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to get his brain working at something other than half speed.

Rupert pushed past Buffy, somehow managing to do it without seeming rude. "Buffy, why don't you give us a few minutes to talk?"

"Okay." Happy to let Rupert deal with it, Buffy went away, shutting the door first, and Rupert came over and crouched down beside the couch.

"Are you all right?" he asked gently.

Touched, Xander nodded and forced himself to sit up. "Yeah. I just took one of those pills -- kind of knocked me for a loop. But I'm better now." He looked at the lines around Rupert's eyes. Wanted to reach out and run his fingertips over them. "How'd it go?"

"We have the object we went looking for, so I guess it was successful."

"Oh God," Xander groaned. "She didn't give you the shovel speech, did she?"

"As a matter of fact --"

Xander hid his head in his hands, but not before noticing that Rupert was still smiling. A warm hand settled on Xander's lower back and rubbed gently. "I'm sorry," Xander said. "I shouldn't have let her go with you, she's --"

"She's your friend, and she cares for you," Rupert interrupted him. He cupped Xander's jaw and made him look up. "I -- I admit it was a bit overwhelming, and a bit of a shock, but I didn't mind, at all. It was endearing, and I find I rather like her."

Xander smiled, and this time he gave in to the urge to touch Rupert's face. "Hey, now," he whispered, "no running off with my best friend. I kinda like having you to myself." He licked his lips nervously. "At least for a little while longer," he added, without great convinction. He wanted Rupert for a lot longer than just 'a little while' and he was pretty sure Rupert had figured that out by now. Or at least was going to figure it out soon.

"I," Rupert started, leaning into Xander's touch. "I rather like -- this," he said, hesitating slightly on the words. Xander knew exactly how that felt. Wanting to say more, but totally unsure that it was going to be okay, that it wasn't too soon.

Xander kissed Rupert. Softly at first, just wanting to feel him again. Rupert cupped the back of his neck, and pressed their lips harder together, his tongue darting out and coaxing Xander's mouth open, deepening the kiss. Xander moaned, one arm wrapping around Rupert's torso and the other sneaking around his shoulders.

"Oh God," Xander murmured when they finally pulled apart, both of them panting. "Two days, and --" How could this feel so right, so good, after just two days?

"I know," Rupert whispered back, fingers playing at the base of Xander's neck. "I don't know where this is going, but I'd like to find out. If -- if you would too?"

" _Yes_ ," Xander said. He flushed and went on stubbornly, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Rupert's hand squeezed at the back of his neck, and he sighed. "You've no idea what a relief it is to hear you say that. I do want to. More than I could explain."

Hoping to lighten the mood, Xander grinned. "As long as it's not some weird mystical thing."

"There are enough of those going on," Rupert agreed. He stood up and held out his hand. "Shall we join the others?"

"Only if you promise you'll keep poking me if I start to nod off." Xander let Rupert pull him to his feet. "So, what was the thing?"

"The thing?" Rupert asked.

"That you went to get?"

"Oh. Yes -- here." Rupert fumbled something solid out of his pocket and put it into Xander's hand -- it was surprisingly heavy, and Xander almost dropped it.

"Whoa." Turning it over, Xander realized that it was a geode. Well, half a geode. "Does he have the other half?"

"He should, yes," Rupert replied. "It's a long story, but he left with the other half when we split. If I know him at all, he'll have kept it."

Xander looked up. "How long ago was it?"

"It was close to twenty-eight years ago. Longer than you've been alive," Rupert said, cupping Xander's cheek again. "You have nothing to be jealous of."

"I wasn't --" Xander started, then shook his head. "Okay, maybe a little." Rupert chuckled, and Xander smiled, tilting his head slightly for another kiss. "Let's go, they'll be waiting for us."

Rupert nodded, let his fingers trail one last time on Xander's cheek, and then picked up the geode from Xander's hands. "It should be an easy spell," he said as they walked out of the room, and went into Edwards' office.

"Okay." Xander sat down on the nearest chair and rubbed his eyes. "Let's get this thing going."

Apparently, it really _was_ an easy spell. Edwards had brought all the ingredients, and Buffy had helped him set it up while Rupert and Xander were talking, and now they were just waiting for the geode. "Place it in the middle of the circle," Edwards said. "It needs to be the focus."

Rupert nodded, and put the rock face down on the floor. Xander noticed a map close by, and more candles around the room. Sam, one of the Council's 'spellcasters' (they weren't really witches, Willow had explained the difference to Xander once, but all he'd remembered of it was that they had powers, but not enough to be really useful at anything but small spells), was sitting cross-legged on the floor, waiting for them to be ready.

"All right, Sam," Edwards said, nodding at Buffy who started to light up all the candles. "I think we should be ready."

Rupert sat on a chair close to Xander, and picked up his hand, squeezing softly. Xander could feel that Rupert was excited about this, and it made him smile. "Couldn't you cast it yourself?" he whispered into Rupert's ear.

"I don't believe so," Rupert answered, shaking his head. "It's been too long since I've cast any spell, and I'd need to try some smaller ones first."

"But isn't this one of the easier ones?"

"Shush, Xander." Edwards glared at them.

Xander shot him an apologetic smile, and looked back to Sam. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Sam said. His accent was a little different from the ones Xander had gotten used to -- he was from somewhere to the east of London. "But quiet would be good."

Xander watched as Sam moved the map closer, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he started to repeat the words of the spell, Xander tried to focus, waiting for the funny crackle that he associated with watching people cast spells. Not that he _liked_ the sensation so much, but it was interesting and he couldn't help but think that, someday, being able to recognize it would come in handy.

"Reveal," Sam finished, but there was... nothing. No crackle of power, and after a few seconds, Sam glanced up, frowning. "Damn."

"Nothing?" Edwards asked, visibly disappointed.

Sam shook his head. "I don't understand. It should have worked." He picked up the geode and turned it in his hand, looking at it. "You're sure this is what you meant to give me?"

"There's nothing else," Rupert said. "I can't think of a reason why it wouldn't be sufficient for the spell's purposes."

"So why didn't it work?" Buffy asked.

Edwards sighed. "If we knew the answer, we might be able to try again," he said.

"What if Rupert tried?" Xander asked, and everyone turned to look at him, including Rupert. "I mean... wouldn't that work? Wouldn't it better, since he knows this guy?"

"It might," Edwards said thoughtfully. "Assuming a number of factors, of course."

"What kind of factors?" Xander asked, although he was looking at Rupert, and not at Edwards.

"I'm not sure I can actually call up the power needed for a spell," Rupert answered, shaking his head.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Rupert," Edwards countered, interrupting him. "You received the basic training, too; you know just as well as I do that power doesn't go away. Unless you had it bound?" He frowned.

Rupert sighed. "No, I didn't, but it -- I haven't used magic in over twenty-five years."

Sam laughed at that. "Oh, dear, it's like riding a bike," he said. He beckoned Rupert closer. "Come sit, we'll give it a couple of tries, and hopefully show you that time doesn't matter."

Xander watched as Rupert reluctantly got up and sat down in the middle of the circle. When Rupert looked up, Xander smiled at him tentatively. "I know you can do this."

Rupert smiled back, and then focused on what Sam was saying. When he was sure he understood what he had to do, he glanced at Xander. "I'm ready."

"Let's try this," Xander said, clapping his hands together.

"Yes, let's," Edwards agreed. "We might not exactly be on a tight schedule, but we haven't had any casualties yet, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Yeah, I'm all for that plan," Buffy replied. She moved into the chair closest to Xander, where she could have a better view of the map. "There's some girls downstairs just waiting to get some action going."

"All right." Rupert looked through the spell again, took a deep breath, and repeated the words Sam had said earlier.

Nothing.

Sam shook his head and sighed. "If you don't believe, you won't succeed."

"It isn't that easy," Rupert snapped. "I can't simply turn on a switch."

"Perhaps not, but if you would just think for a moment that you can do it..." Sam squeezed Rupert's arm, and then moved away. "Try again."

"If you couldn't do it, why would I be able to?"

"You have power; I should have felt _something_ , even if the spell didn't work," Sam said vehemently. "Try again."

"Fine," Rupert said, exasperated, but a second later he glanced at Xander worriedly, and Xander realized that there was a whole collection of reasons this was uncomfortable for the poor guy.

"It's okay," he said. "You can do this."

"Yes, well," Rupert grumbled. "I hope your trust isn't misplaced."

"For once, he's being very sensible," Edwards said.

Xander frowned. "Thanks."

"Okay, okay," Buffy said. "Can we stop with the mutual admiration society and get down to work here?"

"Right," Sam said, then turned his attention to Rupert. "Try closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths. It'll work better if you can center yourself first."

Rupert nodded without saying anything. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly and deliberately; Xander took advantage of the moment to indulge in staring at him. There was just something about the man that made Xander want to look at him forever. The way his hair had that little curl to it, and the way the lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled -- or frowned, like he was sort of doing now.

Oh, yeah. Xander had it bad.

~ * ~ * ~

Rupert was probably a fool, although that wouldn't truly be news to him, but Xander's words had more of an effect on him than he was letting on. Perhaps he _could_ do this after all. Xander might not know all that much about Rupert yet, but his support was proving effective.

Breathing in and out once again, slowly, Rupert let the words spill from his lips as if he'd done this particular spell a thousand times before. It was almost easy, and soon, he could feel the power rising in his chest as it had so many years ago. The air crackled with it, and he heard someone gasp, although he couldn't tell who it was.

"There! He's on Trevor Street, let's go!" That was definitely Buffy's voice.

"All right," Edwards said, obviously surprised. "Buffy, make sure the girls are ready, we'll follow you down in a minute, but please, do not get ahead of yourself and leave without us; we'll need Rupert for this as well."

"Sure thing!"

Rupert heard the door open and shut, and he breathed out, letting the power of the spell leave him. When he opened his eyes again, there was still a faint light on the map, and Rupert smiled faintly as he watched it fade.

Trevor Street... no, Ethan would never change. Rupert remembered Trevor Street well, from the good old days. Ethan was probably still holed up in the same dirty loft he had been in thirty years ago. Rupert shuddered at the memory. It seemed like a lifetime since he'd live there, and he had got used to his comfort now; he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to live like this still.

"Thank you for your help, Sam," Edwards was saying, but Rupert only had eyes for Xander. The young man was smiling brightly, and Rupert answered him with a smile of his own.

"Told you," Xander whispered, and if Rupert had been anyone else, he might have blushed at that, as it were, he cleared his throat and stood, holding a hand out to Xander who said: "Now we go kick some sorcerer's ass, right?"

"Yes, we do. And strangely, I'm looking forward to it."

Of course, it wasn't nearly that simple, which was something Rupert ought to have remembered -- that things never went as smoothly as one imagined. He ducked the blow of an unidentified species of demon and threw himself to one side as another came at him. One of the girls was there almost immediately, joining the fight with a skill and enthusiasm he couldn't help but admire as Xander grabbed onto his arm and tugged him toward the building's entrance.

It was a good thing they'd brought as large a group of girls with them as they had; they'd barely got to the Trevor Street address before demons had swarmed at them from all directions, intent on battle. Edwards had warned Xander to keep Rupert back, but that hadn't worked for long, as two demons had rushed them. They'd been thrust into the fight whether they liked it or not.

Decidedly not, Rupert thought, as he stumbled on the top step to a building which looked much the same as it had in his youth.

Buffy ran up the stairs behind them and shoved the door open, checking inside. "Okay," she said. "Come on."

It was helpful that Rupert knew where to go -- he gestured, and Buffy led the way to the loft, neatly dispatching of the three demons they met along the way. Fortunately, the bulk of the demon activity seemed to be outside; quite possibly because there was more room there for them to mill about, and more likelihood that they'd come across hapless citizens to torment, not to mention kill and consume.

That didn't stop some demon from making their way up to the loft door, and Buffy had to dispatch two more of them before they finally could kick the door in, and stumble into what Ethan used to call his 'living quarters'. Rupert came to a halt with one foot in the doorway, Xander and Buffy having already gone in. This whole situation was like jumping back in time, close to thirty years. The main room hadn't changed at all. You would think Ethan would have at least redecorated, but apparently not.

The same dirty grey on the walls -- although it had been repainted since, the stains Rupert remembered gone -- the same old carpet on the floor, thin and torn in places; he was relieved, at least, to see an unfamiliar couch and coffee table in place of the old battered ones he remembered.

"Here!" Buffy said, loudly, pulling Rupert back into the present. She kicked the door of what Rupert remembered as the bedroom open and walked in.

"Oh! Thank God you're here!" The voice was loud, and Rupert immediately recognized Ethan. He entered the room behind Xander, and looked around. Ethan was sitting cross-legged on the floor -- although he was standing now, brushing his trousers clean of dust -- and he was smiling an artificially charming smile that Rupert remembered. He loathed that smile.

The room was bathed in candlelight, heavy drapes blocking the sunlight from entering through the windows. There were magical artifacts strewn across the room, and Ethan had been sitting in the middle of a casting circle. A very familiar one. "Still invoking Chaos, I see," Rupert said, looking up into his old friend's eyes.

Ethan was obviously shocked to see him there, and Rupert couldn't blame him. He'd promised himself to never set foot in this loft ever again, and yet here he was.

"Ripper! Old friend!" Ethan laughed, walking past Xander and Buffy as if they weren't even there. He stopped short of engulfing Rupert in an embrace, and seemed to settle for grabbing both of Rupert's shoulders. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I don't know," Rupert said, his voice tight and clipped. "Perhaps it has something to do with the dozens of demons outside?"

"But I thought you left all this behind years ago." Ethan was still smiling, but it was meant to hide the confusion and, Rupert thought, hurt in his eyes.

"I did." Rupert pulled away; his hand had clenched itself into a fist seemingly of its own accord.

"And yet here you are." Ethan blinked coyly, glancing at the others as if they were barely worthy of even that much attention, then returning his attention to Rupert. "Did you know I was here? Is that why you've got involved again, after all this time? I mean, really. I know I'm unforgettable, but this is a bit over the top even for you."

"We tracked you," Xander said.

Ethan didn't look puzzled for more than a second or two. "I see. Saved something of mine, did you?"

"Only by accident," Rupert lied. "It ended up coming in handy, though."

"You've always been mine," Ethan said, pleased. "So many years later, and you still belong to me."

"Or maybe he just likes stopping insane people from destroying the city and murdering hundreds of people," Xander snapped.

Something in his tone caught Ethan's attention. "Hundreds? Really?" It hadn't been, but Rupert didn't see the point in telling him that. "Believe me when I say that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to stir things up a bit. You know, cause a little excitement. You remember what that's like, don't you, Ripper?"

Rupert scowled. “You should know better by now, Ethan."

“Oh, that’s right." Ethan walked closer to him, but Rupert refused to move. “You’ve become famous now; no more time for fun, is there?"

“Summoning demons just for the sake of the thrill is not my idea of fun."

“It used to be, remember? Before all this nonsense, you and I, this is what we did."

“I seem to have gained something you so obviously lack, Ethan -- common sense," Rupert said. Ethan hadn’t changed at all. Fists clenched at his sides again, Rupert took one step back to distance himself from Ethan. “Besides, Chaos was never a obsession of mine. Perhaps it’s time you grew up."

“Oh dear, am I being lectured?" Ethan stepped forward again, nose inches away from Rupert’s. “Spare me, Ripper, you and I both know you’re wasting your time."

“And you’re wasting mine," Xander said, tugging Ethan back, and pushing him against the wall, a hand on his throat. “Just tell us how to stop it."

“What do I gain from telling you?"

“ _Gain_?" Xander looked disbelievingly at Rupert, and Rupert shrugged. “You seriously think we’re going to let you walk away from something like this?"

“Of course you will. There’s nothing you can do with me, after all," Ethan sneered. “The Council never could. I’m beyond their power."

“Maybe you didn’t get the memo, but we got a change of heart in the past couple years. You’d be surprised to know what we can do now. Actually, I think you should find out first hand." Xander tightened his grip on Ethan’s neck.

“Let him go, Xander," Buffy said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “I’ve got it." She held out a set of ropes, and Xander did as he was told.

“I don’t think the ropes will be necessary," Rupert said. Ethan shot him a grateful look, but Rupert only snickered and walked closer, making a fist with his hand. “Don’t thank me yet." The punch was oddly gratifying. It hurt like hell, but the resulting cry that Ethan let out was more than enough to make up for the pain. “Now, be a good boy, Ethan, and tell us what the source of the power is."

Ethan laughed. He had the audacity to laugh in Rupert’s face, and without a second thought, Rupert punched him again. He hit Ethan’s stomach hard, and pinned him to the wall. “I will not repeat myself again. Tell me what the source is."

“Now, _that’s_ my Ripper," Ethan spit, laughing, and wipe the blood of the first blow off his mouth. “Blood and violence, and I can feel the magic pouring off you. You’re the one who found me, am I right? I’d wager it was the first spell you’ve cast in quite a number of years, too. It felt --“

“Shut up." Rupert slammed him against the wall again, but Ethan laughed and kept going, voice just a little strained from the pain.

“Felt good, didn’t it? The power flowing through your veins again, like fire?" He barely blinked when Rupert punched him again. “You do still belong to me, Ripper, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself over the years."

Rupert lifted his fist again, but a hand caught it before he could bring it down. He turned swiftly, and found himself staring into Xander’s eye.

“That’s enough," Xander told him. “Buffy thinks she found what we’re looking for." He nodded towards the far side of the room, and sure enough, Buffy was crouching down in front of what looked like the other half of that geode. Rupert let his fist fall to his side, and loosened his grip on Ethan’s neck.

“Don’t touch that," Ethan grunted, just seconds before Buffy put her hand on it.

She looked at Rupert and he shook his head. “Better do as he says for now; a cursed object can be quite dangerous." He finally let go of Ethan altogether, and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, never letting Ethan out of his sight.

“Okay, so how do we -- you know," she waved, “un-curse it?" 

"Actually, it's far easier than one might think," Rupert said. He put a hand into his pocket, and an uncertain look flickered over Ethan's face as he drew out the other half of the geode, a bit dusty after so many years but none the worse for wear.

"There, you see?" Ethan said, doing his best to cover his fear with bravado, just as he'd always done. "Why would you have kept it all these years if you weren't mine?"

"I may have been, once," Rupert admitted. Two of the girls came over and held onto Ethan, who only put up a cursory struggle. "But no more. Do you hear me? No more."

And with that, ignoring Ethan's rather loud protests, he strode across the room toward Buffy. She saw him coming, as well as the look on his face, and backed up, giving him the space he needed.

Kneeling, Rupert lifted his half of the geode and brought it down with as much force as he could onto the other, hoping that it would be enough.

It was. There was the rough sound of stone against stone, a clacking sort of sound, and both halves broke into many pieces. A muffled *pop* accompanied the break; this was the start of a shock wave that caused an exclamation from most everyone in the room and a startled, despairing, "No!" from Ethan, who flung himself forward far too late to do anything, then collapsed onto the floor.

In the silence that followed, Xander crept closer to him. "Is that... is that it?" he asked.

"It should be," Rupert said dully, letting the remains of his geode half fall from his hand onto the floor. "At the very least, with the power center destroyed, there shouldn't be anything keeping the demons here." He got to his feet a bit unsteadily, stepping away from Xander's offered support and very carefully not looking in Ethan's direction. It was difficult to grasp how all this had happened, and he wasn't sure whether he ought to be blaming himself for it or not. "I should go."

~ * ~ * ~

Dumbstruck, Xander watched Rupert leave the room without looking back, and he sighed. A hand on his arm stopped him from running after Rupert, and Xander looked up to find Buffy there, an unreadable look on her face. "I know you want to go after him," she said, "but I need your help, and I think he needs time."

 _Time? Why?_ he wanted to ask, but he looked over her shoulder at Ethan, still sprawled on the floor. He looked unconscious, and the slayers were just standing there next to him, not sure what to do. Xander knew why Rupert needed time; asking would just make him look more dumb than he actually was. He nodded at Buffy, because she was obviously waiting for an answer, and then he crouched down by Ethan's side. "Looks like destroying the geode knocked him out cold," he said matter-of-factly. God, he wanted to run downstairs. Maybe Rupert wasn't gone yet.

"Yeah, looks like it," Buffy replied. "Do you think we can move him?"

Xander thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. "Better call a retrieval team and have them bring him in."

"I'll take care of it."

The voice wasn't Buffy's, and when Xander looked up, he saw Edwards standing in the doorway. "You sure?"

"Yes, we'll have to bind him magically, Ethan Rayne is one of the most dangerous magicians we've ever come across. Trust me when I say that this was child's play for him. I'll call the retrieval team and get him secure." Then he looked at Xander, with the same odd expression Buffy had a moment ago. "Rupert is still downstairs," Edwards said. "Go."

Xander didn't need to be told twice. He straightened himself up and went for the door.

"Oh, Xander?" Edwards interrupted him.

"Yeah?"

"You should know the only reason Rupert isn't standing here in my stead is that he chose to walk away. He turned his back on this life to become who he is today, without so much as a glance over his shoulder. I've a feeling he might not be eager to throw himself back into it."

_Just for you._ Xander could easily add this little addendum to Edwards' speech, and he sighed. Edwards was wrong; not completely, maybe, but Rupert _had_ looked over his shoulder more than once even before this; the artifact collection in his living room was a proof of that. But whether that meant he'd be okay dealing with all of this for Xander's sake...

Not that Xander really expected him to, considering they'd known each other for all of two days, and Xander still couldn't be sure the whole thing wasn't some kind of dream. Still, there was that knot in his stomach, and Xander really hoped Rupert wouldn't just run away from him.

He walked through the hallways the same way they'd come in, and found Rupert slumped against the wall next to the door that led outside. He looked weary and exhausted, nothing like the rock star Xander had gone home with just two nights ago.

And, _God_ , Xander wanted to touch him right now. Pull him close and kiss him, and --

"I don't think I can do this, Xander."

The knot in his stomach tightened and flipped over; Xander had to shove his hands into his pants pockets to keep from grabbing onto Rupert, and he had to swallow hard around the sudden lump in his throat. "I -- um, okay."

Rupert lifted his head and looked at him. "I'm sorry. You've no idea how much."

"Okay." Xander felt kind of like he'd been run over by a really big truck and was still at the shock stage. The pain would come later. He wanted to beg Rupert to reconsider, to tell him that things would be different -- but they wouldn't, would they? Not really. This was his life, and it was the life Rupert had walked away from and not come back to in all these years. "I just -- I mean, I understand."

Sighing, Rupert rubbed his forehead. "I'm sure you don't, but I'm afraid I just don't have the energy to explain, and... I suppose I think it would be better if we made a clean break. For you." He looked at Xander again, his eyes kind of bleak and far away.

Xander heard what wasn't being said -- that he wasn't enough reason to walk back into a life Rupert had never wanted. That, more than anything else, made it easier to nod and sound convincing when he said, a third time, "Okay." He swallowed again. "Well. Um. Thanks. For... you know. Being here."

"Don't thank me," Rupert said tiredly. "The last thing you should be doing is thanking me." He dragged his hand across his face and muttered, "I _am_ sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Xander told him, feeling cold and sad. "Just be safe. Take care of yourself, okay?" And before Rupert could say anything else, before Rupert could be the one to walk away leaving Xander to watch him go, he turned and went back to finish his job.

~ * ~ * ~

The place was still a mess, and probably would be for another day or so, until they could get one of the detailed clean-up teams in to deal with the little stuff, but Ethan had been magically bound and taken away. Xander had listened to Buffy and Edwards talking about what would be done with him in a distant sort of way, none of the words really sinking in. They'd all assumed that things between him and Rupert were fine -- which probably meant Xander had done a better job of putting on a mask than he'd thought -- and he hadn't said anything to convince them otherwise.

"Well, that seems to be the worst of it," Edwards said, sighing. He didn't look as tired as Xander felt; that was pretty sad, considering he was about twenty years older. Maybe Xander needed to start working out more or something. "Why don't you two go home and get some sleep."

"Are you sure?" Buffy looked at least a little bit tired. "Because we can stay." She glanced at Xander and reconsidered. "I mean, I can stay."

"No." Edwards shook his head. "Why don't you give Xander a ride home?"

That was when Xander remembered that he'd come in Rupert's car. His stomach clenched unhappily all over again. "That'd be good," he said.

"And be sure to thank Rupert for all his help," Edwards said as they started for the door. "At the risk of sounding cliched, we couldn't have done it without him."

Xander nodded, lips pressed together tightly to keep from saying anything. He wanted to scream, he really did, but instead he followed Buffy out of the loft and down into the street, barely registering his surroundings until he was sitting in the passenger seat of Buffy's car.

"So... he's gone, isn't he?" she asked, putting the car into gear and driving into the London traffic.

"Yeah," Xander replied. He kept his eye on he road and sighed. "Edwards was right. You know how I hate it when he's always right. Rupert just can't handle the whole demon chasing thing."

Buffy snorted and took a left. "Don't get me wrong, Edwards' a cool guy, in a very British way, but this Giles guy was more collected and focused in there than I've ever seen Edwards be. It's like he was born for this."

Until three nights ago, Xander would have said Rupert Giles was born to be a rock star, but Buffy was right; this whole thing had put a different perspective on things, and Rupert _had_ been interestingly efficient. "Maybe."

"If he can't handle something, it's how right it felt, not how scary it was." She made a startled sound, and veered left quickly. "Sorry, I almost missed your street."

Xander shook his head. "If you kept your eyes on the road, that wouldn't happen. You're still a shitty driver."

"Whatever," Buffy said. After parking in front of his building, she reached to pat Xander's knee. "Give him a couple days, and then run after him. He's going to miss you so much he won't care what you do for a living. You're irresistible, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Xander said, sarcasm evident in his voice. "I'm the catch of the year."

"Don't sell yourself short, Xander," Buffy warned him. "I haven't seen you this -- well, I guess smitten is the word, since Anya -- you know. One day, you're going to have to explain to me how the gay thing's working out for you, but for now, I don't want the details."

Xander gave her a tight smile. The mention of Anya didn't hurt as much as it used to, even just a few months ago. It was weird and unsettling to realize it. Xander squeezed Buffy's hand and got out of the car. "Thanks for the lift, and the talk; just, you know, never do that again."

"What, talk about your love life? Aww, way to suck the fun out of it." She smiled. "Go. Mope. Call me if you need to talk. I'll be home. I think Dawn's wondering if I'm still alive."

With a nod, Xander shut the door and turned away. He heard Buffy's car driving down the street and went into his apartment building.

Even though he was exhausted, he couldn't sleep, and it wasn't for lack of trying. First he had to open the windows in the bedroom, then strip the bed and put on clean sheets before lying down, because the room smelled like sex in a not-good way. But he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, for more than an hour. Then, fed up, Xander sighed and got up.

He turned on the TV and deliberately searched for a really boring channel. One of the home shopping networks was doing a show on cleaning products, including a vacuum called a Dyson and some kind of pressure spray machine that was guaranteed to get rid of years of grease build-up on your kitchen appliances and car engines, and if there was anything more likely to put him to sleep Xander couldn't think of what it was.

Forty five minutes later and he was still awake, unable to keep his mind from continually straying where he didn't want it to and about ready to scream with frustration.

Xander got up and put on his shoes. Checked his pockets for wallet and keys. Went out the front door, locking it behind him, and started walking.

He didn't have a goal in mind; he just walked. Something about the rhythm of it, one foot in front of the other, was soothing -- it let his brain go quiet, finally, so that all he was thinking about was the one-two of his sneakers on the pavement and, in a more dim part of his consciousness, the other sounds of the city around him, because he'd been doing his job too long to just forget about being aware of potential danger.

It wasn't until he looked up and realized he was standing in front of Rupert's building that Xander stopped, and once he'd stopped he couldn't get his feet moving again. 

They hurt, he discovered. How long had he been walking? And what were the chances of him being able to get a taxi at this hour, a hired car that would take him away from the one place he really didn't want to be, only part of him must have wanted to be there because otherwise why was he?

Hating himself in new and unpleasant ways, Xander went the rest of the way to Rupert's door and rang the bell.

It was the middle of the night so he shouldn't have been surprised when Rupert answered him wearing only his bathrobe, but he was taken aback for a moment. "Er, hi," Xander finally said, feeling a faint blush spread on his cheeks. "I -- I probably shouldn't be here, but I was walking and -- never mind."

Rupert hadn't said a word when he'd swung the door open, but when Xander went to turn away, he said, "Wait. Xander, come in, please."

Rupert _looked_ like he'd been sleeping, but he really didn't _sound_ like it at all. When Xander walked in, shutting the door behind himself, he immediately noticed the book on the coffee table, and the glass of something dark next to it.

"Something to drink?" Rupert asked.

Xander shook his head. "No, I don't -- I shouldn't. I already have enough trouble putting my thoughts in order; adding alcohol to it won't help."

Rupert gave a soft chuckle and sat down on the sofa, picking up his glass and sipping at it carefully.

"I seriously don't know what I'm doing here --"

"Yes, you've already mentioned that," Rupert interrupted him. His tone was teasing though, and when Xander looked up, Rupert had a smile playing on his lips. "Please, sit down."

"Okay," Xander agreed, sitting down on the edge of the chair facing Rupert. He leaned forward, eyes cast down on his hands.

Breaking the silence, Rupert said, "I was an idiot," and sighed.

"No," Xander said, because that's what you were supposed to say when someone else said that or something like it. "You got put into a situation you didn't want to be in. Getting back out of it again actually makes you the opposite of an idiot."

"It's not nearly that simple," Rupert said. He took off his glasses and set them on the table, then leaned back and rubbed at his temples like he had a headache. "It's true that I wouldn't have chosen -- er, decided -- to step back into this sort of situation. But none of what happened was your fault. And if I hadn't met you when I did, it's impossible to say how things with Ethan would have played out. More people might have been hurt or killed."

Xander nodded. "Edwards said we couldn't have done it without you, and he was right."

"It felt..." Rupert sighed and looked at Xander, the little lines around his eyes crinkling. "I'd like to be able to say that I didn't like it, but I'm afraid that wouldn't be entirely honest of me." He didn't sound happy about it, though. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Xander asked.

"What are you thinking? Are you -- you must be upset with me, and I certainly wouldn't blame you. It was wrong of me to walk away like that. I'm sorry."

Xander wanted to move over to the couch, wanted to touch Rupert, but he still wasn't a hundred percent sure what was going on here. "I wish things hadn't happened the way they did," he said carefully. "With Ethan, I mean, and what you had to do to resolve everything. I wish you hadn't been put in that position."

"But it wasn't your fault," Rupert said. "None of it was."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I like it." Xander pushed his hair back and tried to find the words to say what he was thinking. "I like _you_. I don't want to lose this -- whatever it might be -- between us over the whole Slayer situation. If I need to keep that part of my life separate from you so that I can keep seeing you, I'll figure out a way to do that."

Rupert shook his head. "We both know that's impossible. This life bleeds into everything you do. It's one of the reasons I decided to pull away before I became too invested in it. Nothing you do is ever completely separate from it."

Xander's heart skipped a beat, and he looked up. "I'll try. I'll figure it out."

"I can't ask that of you," Rupert said, softly. "I can't, and I won't, because it would rip you apart, Xander." Then he took an audibly deep breath, and continued: "But giving this," he waved between them to make sure Xander understood exactly what he was talking about, "up is very likely to rip _me_ apart." His eyes were on his glass and Xander didn't have to be a genius to understand what Rupert wasn't saying.

"Yeah, it can be hard to quit drinking," he said with a smile, trying for light humour, even though he knew this probably wasn't the time for it.

Rupert returned the smile, if a bit tentatively, and put down his glass again, reaching for Xander's hand. "It's one thing to walk away from a life I was forced into, to make my own choices; and that is what I did, and while I now wonder if that was the right decision to make, I can't regret it. But it is completely different to stick stubbornly to that choice when something good falls into my lap."

"I didn't so much fall as, you know..." Xander paused, not really sure what he was going to say. And then Rupert was right next to him and cupping his cheek and forcing him to look up.

"Maybe not fall, but the idea is the same. If you don't think I'm an idiot for what I said earlier, then I'd really like to see where this might go." He bent down slightly and brushed his lips across Xander's. "If you'll let me."

Xander wrapped a hand on the back of Rupert's neck and pulled him closer.

About a hundred years later, Rupert murmured, with his lips brushing Xander's, "I'd suggest we retire to the bedroom, but..."

"But?" Xander asked, blinking and trying to drag his brain away from thoughts of Rupert's naked body on top of his. He only partially succeeded.

"But," Rupert said, "I think the more responsible thing would be to discuss this at greater length. Come to some sort of agreement about what we both want."

Xander nodded and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. "Yeah, okay. But."

"But?" Rupert said, smiling tentatively.

"But it's the middle of the night," Xander pointed out. "And I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Do you think... could we go to bed -- to _sleep_ \-- and maybe talk in the morning?"

~ * ~ * ~

Rupert wasn't sure what had pushed him to agree, but minutes later, they were both sliding under the covers with only their underwear on. The bruising on Xander's shoulder was still a deep shade of purple, Rupert noticed, and he went to touch it before he caught himself and stopped. "Does your shoulder still hurt?" he asked, when Xander gave a short moan that sounded a little like pain.

"Yeah." Xander's voice was strained, although whether it was because the pain was strong or he was tired, Rupert couldn't tell. "I kinda forgot about the whole shoulder thing. Those painkillers Edwards gave me really worked their magic, and then -- I guess I had other things on my mind."

Rupert could understand that quite well. Now that he was lying down and trying to rest, he remembered that he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. "Would you like some paracetamol? I don't have the strong painkillers, but those should do for the night..."

Xander shifted next to him. "Nah, it's okay. I just -- I'll be okay." He had the distinctive tone that meant 'I don't want to bother you,' and Rupert sighed as he recognized it.

He couldn't help a smile, and stood up again. Better now than later when they were both on the verge of sleep. "I'll be right back." Rupert grabbed a glass from the kitchen cupboard and filled it with cold water from the fridge, and then grabbed the painkillers in the bathroom. "Here," he told Xander as he got back into the room.

Xander looked at him and visibly winced as he sat up. "I said I was fine," he muttered.

"Yes, forgive me for not believing you," Rupert replied. He handed Xander the glass and opened the bottle, slipping two pills on Xander's outstretched palm. "I'll leave the bottle on the nightstand, if the pain should wake you up."

"You know," Xander said, before popping the pills and taking the glass of water to his lips. "I'm used to the being hurt part, it's a job hazard. What I'm not used to is the coddling part."

"Is that what this is? Coddling?" Rupert got back on the bed, under the covers and reached out to turn off the light. He heard the sound of the glass being put down carefully on the nightstand, and then Xander shifted back on the bed, lying down next to Rupert, though being careful not to touch him. "Oh, come now," Rupert whispered, tugging on Xander until he was comfortable set against his chest. "How is this for your shoulder?"

"Much better, actually," Xander answered, keeping his voice low. "And yeah, sorta feels like coddling."

"With the life you lead," Rupert said, "I can understand how you wouldn't be used to it. Perhaps I should warn you that this is something I tend to do, no matter the circumstances."

Xander moved against him, settling one hand on Rupert's hip. "I think I can deal with that."

"I hope so," Rupert said. "Because I doubt very much I'd be able to stop. Especially considering it's you."

"Hm? I mean, why me?" When Xander spoke, Rupert could feel the warm breath across his skin.

"Ah, that's the question, isn't it." He sighed and slid his fingers gently through Xander's hair, giving himself a moment or two to think; he wanted to answer the question that Xander hadn't really asked, for both of them. "I suppose at first I worried that I might just be trying to recapture my lost youth, or that I was flattered at the attention. You're very handsome, you know."

"Me?" Xander said again. "You're the one who's famous. You must have had hundreds of people throwing themselves at you."

"At least," Rupert said, then quickly added, "But I turned most of them down. You were different -- I could see that right away."

Xander nodded. "I'll bet I was the only one doing a pirate imitation."

"That didn't play into it at all." Rupert's voice was a bit sharper than he'd meant it to be, but he very much wanted Xander to believe him. He stroked his hand through Xander's hair again so the younger man would know he wasn't angry. "You're very special, Xander. You must know that?"

There was a long silence before Xander finally spoke. "Actually, I think I've kind of made a career of the opposite. Being, you know, normal. Regular."

"There's very little about you that's regular," Rupert said firmly. "The fact that you work with the people you do -- people who've been either destined or trained all their lives for this sort of job -- proves it."

"You know that part just kinda _happened_ , right? I didn't really choose this," Xander whispered.

"Yes, you did," Rupert replied. "You chose to stay and fight when you could have walked away. That makes you quite _ir_ -regular."

He felt more than saw Xander shrug, and then Xander said: "If you say so; I still can't believe I'm actually discussing this with you. You know, Rupert Giles, _Rock Star_. Except, you're not, you're just -- human. Also, very hot, and just -- Are we really doing this?"

Rupert laughed, fingers drifting from Xander's hair to his neck. "Yes, I suppose we are."

"Okay, then." Xander lifted his head, and Rupert met his gaze. "Can I kiss you?"

"Be my guest." He cupped Xander's cheek, feeling the stubble on his fingertips, and licked his lips. Their mouths brushed against each other gently, and Xander made a soft, needy noise in his throat just as Rupert was pressing harder and coaxing his lips apart.

When they finally parted, Rupert sighed softly, and let Xander settle back against his chest.

"I don't want to do this part again." Xander's voice was sleepy now, his weight heavy against Rupert.

"Which part is that?" Rupert pressed his lips to Xander's temple softly.

"The arguing part. I mean, I know people say good things about make up sex, but I'd rather skip the fighting and stick with the regular sex -- that's good enough that I might not survive more..."

Xander was asleep before Rupert could respond, his breathing even. "Don't worry," Rupert whispered. "It's all going to be fine."

~ * ~ * ~

In the morning, the first thing Rupert was aware of was the sun. It was high, signifying that it was possibly as late as ten or eleven.

The second thing he was aware of was that he was pressed up against Xander from behind, his erection nestled between the globes of Xander's arse. They were both wearing the underwear they'd gone to bed in. Rupert's arm was draped over Xander, his hand cupping Xander's cock -- which was as hard as his own -- as if he couldn't resist it, even in sleep. He told himself that he should stop, pull his hand away, and at the same time found his fingertips tracing Xander's length.

Xander murmured in his sleep; his hips moved forward, pushing his cock more firmly against Rupert's hand, and then back, rubbing against Rupert's own rather insistent erection.

"Xander," Rupert said softly.

Xander's hand found Rupert's and held it where it was; he made a little moaning sound that would have made Rupert hard in about five seconds, if he hadn't been already.

A bit more loudly, Rupert said, "Xander. Wake up."

Xander sighed and wriggled against him. "Hm? What?"

"Wake up now," Rupert told him.

Yawning, Xander brought Rupert's hand up to his face and kissed it. "Are we late for something?"

"No, but we're meant to talk this morning, not... do other things, as pleasant as they might be."

"Can't we do the talking part later?" Xander asked, his tongue tracing slow circles on the pad of Rupert's thumb.

That was very distracting. Rupert pushed his erection against Xander's ass and moaned softly. "I'm almost certain it would be a bad idea."

"Almost?" Xander grinned, biting down softly and then sucking Rupert's finger into his mouth. He released it with a soft, wet sound, and licked his lips. "Doesn't sound all that convincing to me."

"No, no, it isn't," Rupert agreed. He wanted to say 'screw being responsible about this.' He bit his lip instead and then dove down to kiss Xander's neck. "But truly, we should --"

"I thought we talked it all through last night." Xander pouted, actually _pouted_ at him, bringing Rupert's hand down to feel his hard cock.

"No," Rupert gasped, fingers clasping over Xander's erection, and he rubbed his palm against it slowly. "Not really."

"Maybe after, then?" Xander turned his head slightly and grinned at Rupert. "I kinda want you to fuck me right now. Anyway, kind of not able to concentrate when you do that --"

Rupert smiled and slipped his hand under Xander's boxer shorts. "What? Like this?" He wrapped his hand around Xander's cock and started stroking, slow and leisurely. Then he pushed his hips forward again, feeling the pleasure curling in his groin. "Or perhaps this?"

"Both," Xander gasped. "So, fucking now, talk later? You know, if we still need to talk..."

"I think that could be arranged," Rupert whispered against Xander's neck. He kissed the skin there softly, before pushing his lips against it more firmly. He sucked and bit, and drew moans from Xander, the sounds going straight to his crotch. "How's your shoulder?" he asked hoarsely when he pulled back to breathe.

"Fine, fine," Xander groaned, impatient and sounding intensely aroused. "Just fuck me already."

He wished it weren't necessary to fumble with condoms, but perhaps, at some point in the future, if things went well between them, it wouldn't be. Rupert set that train of thought aside and did what had to be done, grateful, at least, that the supplies he needed were close at hand. It didn't take long to roll on a condom, and by the time he had, Xander had wriggled out of his boxers and was gloriously naked.

"Let's do it like this," Xander said, rolling back to the same position he'd been in before, facing away from Rupert. He pushed his arse back until it bumped Rupert's groin. "Can we? Like this?"

"Any way you like," Rupert assured him. He took his cock in hand, gritting his teeth as he guided himself into place. "Here, can you lift your leg... yes, just like that." And he eased inside Xander, the tight clench of heat of Xander around his cock so perfect that he thought for a moment his heart might stop from the pleasure.

Xander inhaled sharply, squirmed against him. His right hand scrabbled at the sheets until he caught hold of the edge of the mattress; that seemed to give him some purchase, and when Rupert thrust forward, Xander pushed back. They both moaned.

Somehow, Rupert's hand had found its way to Xander's hip. He tightened his grip when he thrust inside again, and Xander made a sound rather like a whimper and begged, "Touch me. Oh, God, I know this isn't the kind of thing you're supposed to say, but if you don't touch me it's totally possible I might die, _oh God_ \--"

This last was as Rupert did, indeed, close his fingers around Xander's hard, hot cock.

"God, fuck," Xander groaned. "Oh, man, I love morning sex." His voice was low and throaty, and he pushed back to meet Rupert's next thrust.

Rupert laughed quietly against his shoulder and said, "I could certainly get used to this." He thrust harder into Xander.

"Yeah, I could -- fuck yeah, don't stop -- I could, too," Xander murmured. He put his hand on Rupert's hip and urged him to go faster. "I mean, god, if you wanted to, I could..."

"It seems we'll be fucking _and_ talking, then." Rupert chuckled and sped his hand on Xander's cock.

"I guess -- so." Xander's breathing was quicker now, too, and the way that he moved against Rupert, with sharp little jabs of his hips, was nearly enough to make Rupert lose track of the conversation.

Then he remembered, and he heard himself suggesting, "You could move in here with me. If you wanted to." He laughed, a bit breathlessly. "Or just sleep here every night, so that we could do this." Rupert punctuated the last word with a particularly deep thrust, and Xander cried out and shuddered and came, his cock throbbing in Rupert's hand and his body convulsing around Rupert's own cock in blissful, delicious waves.

"God, I think I love you," Xander said, still caught up in the pleasure. Then he froze, seeming to have realized what he'd just said. "Fuck. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, it's way too soon and I just wasn't thinking, _fuck,_ don't be mad --"

"Hush," Rupert told him sternly. He tugged at Xander's hip, changing the angle of his thrusts a bit, so close that he could almost taste it. A few more strokes inside Xander's tight, perfect arse and he was coming, too, groaning and somehow managing to wrap his arm around Xander's chest to keep him there, to keep him from running off before they could get all this sorted out. "Now," he said finally, when his heart no longer felt as if it might stop beating altogether. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," Xander said, his voice firm. "I mean, I don't know. It was just, you know, sex babble."

Rupert kissed Xander's shoulder and sighed. "I was being quite serious when I said you could move in," he said quietly. He wanted to say he felt it, too, the emotion Xander didn't want to mention again, but he didn't. "There's more than enough space here for you." Rupert wasn't sure why he was suggesting this, apart from the fact that he really did like waking up like this. Xander was right; it was soon, too soon.

"It'd be nice," Xander finally said, fingers twining with Rupert's. "If you're sure we're not rushing into things?"

"I'm sure we _are_ ," Rupert replied, pressing another kiss to Xander's shoulder. "But it feels right. And I'll admit I'm not looking forward to letting you go home."

Xander pulled Rupert's arm around him more tightly, which Rupert belatedly remembered must have been at least somewhat uncomfortable. "I like it better here. I mean, apart from the fact that your place is about a hundred times nicer than mine... well. You're here."

It was flattering. More than that, Rupert felt the same way; if it meant being with Xander, he'd probably have agreed to move into the younger man's flat. "Yes. I'd like it if you were here, as well. Although, if you'd like to think about it some more, of course I'd understand."

"Or you could come by tonight and help me pack?" When Rupert didn't respond immediately, Xander turned his head to look at him. "Or not."

"No," Rupert said. "I'd love to. I can't think of a better way to spend my evening."

"And then soon, when I'm all settled here with you, you'll find out what a slob I realy am," Xander said, grinning.

Rupert laughed softly. "I'm sure we'll figure out living arrangements that will suit both of us. I do have a maid who comes by twice a week."

"A maid, wow." Xander turned his whole body with only a small groan, and kissed Rupert's lips. "Always wanted to have a maid. No dishes or laundry or," he shuddered, "sweeping."

"I think we'll be just fine, now," Rupert replied, still chuckling. "I do have a dishwasher, though, as doing the dishes only twice a week is..."

"Yeah, okay," Xander said, burying his face in Rupert's neck and kissing the skin. "I can do dishwashers."

"I'm sure you can." Rupert patted Xander's arse gently, expecting more, and was surprised when Xander didn't say anything else or even move much. It was as if the other man were having second thoughts -- or maybe that was Rupert's own fears talking. "What is it?" he asked.

Xander sighed and shook his head slightly. "It's just... what about the other stuff? The, you know, Slayer stuff."

"What about it?" Rupert said, although he was really just buying himself time.

"How are we going to deal with it? I mean, I know it's this whole life you walked away from -- and I don't blame you for that --" Xander pulled back so he could look at Rupert properly. "And then along I come and drag you right back into the whole mess."

Rupert sighed. He'd been expecting to have to deal with this, but not right this very moment. "We'll be fine," he said, eyes fixing the details on the ceiling, the molding surrounding the light, the painted details on the corners of the walls. It hit him then. They really would be fine. "I walked away, yes, but perhaps it's time I turn around and stop delaying the inevitable."

"Inevitable?" Xander asked hoarsely.

Rupert turned onto his side, and ran his hand up Xander's hip to his the crook of his arm, only stopping when Xander shivered. "If there's one thing I believe, it's that we have met for a reason, Xander."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "And that reason is demon fighting? What's wrong with fucking?"

Rupert let out a short laugh. "Nothing. Nothing at all." He bent his head and captured Xander's lips in a burning kiss. "What I meant," he whispered when he pulled back minutes later, "is that I don't want to stand idly by while you fight. I want to be a part of it. My life hasn't had true meaning for a number of years. Now... perhaps this is what I'm meant to be doing."

"It's the spell casting, isn't it? That stuff is like drugs, it's dangerous," Xander said mock-seriously. He was smiling, dimples at the corner of his mouth, and Rupert kissed that smile again.

"Kissing you is addictive," Rupert countered, amused.

"Maybe, but you're not supposed to say so." Xander's grin faded into a more serious expression. "I -- just listen, okay? I don't want you to blame me. Later, I mean. If you decide going back to all this demon stuff was a mistake, and there was a reason you walked away from it the first time. I don't want to be responsible for that. For you being miserable."

"Xander." Rupert rubbed his thumb across the other man's lower lip. "First of all, I wouldn't blame you if that were to happen, but, more importantly, I don't think it will."

"You don't?" Xander asked.

Rupert shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Because," Rupert said honestly, "I can't imagine being miserable when I'm with you."

Xander smiled at that, and Rupert leaned in to kiss him, lips sliding against lips slowly and deliberately.

"Perhaps we can stop talking now, and get on to better things?" It was, perhaps, a very corny thing to say, but Rupert meant every word. He ran a hand up Xander's thigh, and slipped it back to caress his ass. "We can go to your place later to pack."

Xander let out a slow moan and nodded. "Good plan, I like that plan." Rupert hand dipped lower, fingers brushing against Xander's hole. "Oh yeah, definitely a plan I can get behind."

Rupert grinned and dove in for another, much longer, kiss.

~ * ~ The End ~ * ~


End file.
